^/'~7 


9i- V  vJO 


^ 


THE 


WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL 


BY 


IMBERT    DE    SAINT-AMAND 


TRANSLATED  BY 
THOMAS   SERGEANT   PERRY 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1900 


Copyright,  1890, 
B*  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS. 


THE  CAXTON   PRESS,    NEW  YORK 


CONTENTS. 


PAGB 
Introduction 1 


PART  I. 

THE   TEMPORARY  CONSULATE. 

CHAPTER 

I.    The  Luxembourg 21 

II.    Tin:  Formal  Entrance  into  the  Tuileries 33 

III.  The  Tuileries  at  the  Beginning  of  the  Consulate  41 

IV.  Parisian  Society  in  the  Year  VIII 52 

V.    The  Two  National  Festivals 63 

VI.  Malmaison  in  1800 75 

VII.  The  Infernal  Machine 85 

VIII.  Parisian  Society  in  1800 08 

IX.  Malmaison  in  its  Glory 114 

X.  IIortense  de  Blu  iiarnais 120 

XI.  Madame   Louis  Bonaparte 140 

XII.  Madame  JYnot 152 

XIII.  The   Te  Deum  for  the  Concordat 10(5 

XIV,  Josephine  and  the  Royalists 178 

XV.  The  End  of  the  Temporary  Consulate 187 

v 


VI  CONTENTS. 

PART  II. 
THE  CONSULATE  EOR  LIFE. 

CHAPTER  PARE 

I.  The  Palace  of  Saint  Cloud 199 

II.  The  Consulate  for  Life 216 

III.  JosEPniNE  in  1803 234 

IV.  Madame  de  Remusat 244 

V.  The  Trip  to  Belgium 261 

VI.   The  Princess  Borghese 276 

VII.   Madame  Moreau 287 

VIII.   The  Conspiracy 300 

IX.   The  Arrest  of  the  Duke  of  Enghien 312 

X.   The  Death  of  the  Duke  of  Enghien 321 

XL   The  Last  Days  of  the  Consulate 837 


THE  WIFE   OF  THE   FIRST  CONSUL 


THE  WIFE  OF  THE   FIRST  CONSUL 


INTRODUCTION. 

r\  the  modest  church,  of  Rueil,  on  each  side  of  the 
altar,  there  stand,  face  to  face,  two  funeral  monu- 
ments which  call  forth  a  host  of  memories.  The  one 
to  the  right  represents  a  woman  kneeling  at  a  prayer- 
desk,  in  full  dress,  but  with  no  royal  insignia,  and 
the  simple  inscription  runs  thus :  "  To  Josephine. 
Eugene  and  Hortense,  1825."  The  statue,  which  is 
of  Carrara  marble,  is  the  work  of  the  sculptor  Cartel- 
lier.  In  the  foundation  of  the  pedestal  rests  the  body 
of  the  woman  who  was  Empress  of  the  French  and 
Queen  of  Italy.  Opposite,  a  group  in  white  marble, 
the  work  of  the  sculptor  Barre,  represents  a  woman 
and  an  angel.  The  woman,  who  is  kneeling,  wears 
a  regal  diadem,  and  she  is  wrapped  in  the  folds  of 
a  long  veil.  Her  attitude  is  that  of  prayer,  with  her 
hands  lowered  towards  the  earth,  and  her  eyes  raised 
towards  heaven.  Before  her  one  may  see  a  crown, 
a  few  laurels,  and  a  lyre,  but  her  melancholy  face 
expresses  a  feeling  of  contempt  for  these  toys  which 


2  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

are  so  trivial  on  earth,  and  so  much  more  trivial  in 
face  of  eternity.  It  is  indeed  the  sad  woman,  rid  of 
all  illusions,  who  in  1807  said  to  Napoleon:  "My 
reputation  is  tainted,  my  health  broken,  I  expect  no 
further  happiness  in  this  life ;  expel  me  from  your 
heart,  if  you  wish  it,  bury  me  in  a  convent,  I  desire 
neither  throne  nor  wealth.  Give  my  mother  peace, 
grant  to  Eugene  the  glory  which  he  deserves,  but  let 
me  live  quiet  and  alone."  Above  the  statue  floats 
an  angel  who,  with  a  gesture  at  once  protecting  and 
consoling,  shows  to  the  unhappy  queen  the  eternal 
spheres.  On  the  pedestal  is  cut  this  inscription: 
"  To  Queen  Hortense,  her  son  Napoleon  III." 

The  remains  of  the  Queen  do  not  lie  in  the  foun« 
dation  of  this  monument ;  they  rest  beneath  it  in  a 
crypt  shut  off  by  a  gate  of  wrought  iron,  to  which 
leads  a  staircase  in  the  corner  of  the  church.  The 
arches  of  the  vault  are  upheld  by  clusters  of  short 
and  massive  columns.  A  funeral  lamp  and  two 
bronze  candelabra  cast  a  dim  glow  over  this  vault, 
into  which  the  light  of  day  never  falls.  At  the  back 
of  the  crypt,  beneath  an  arcade,  may  be  descried  the 
huge  tomb,  which  seems  to  be  covered  with  a  royal 
mantle,  carved  in  stone,  and  surmounted  by  a  golden 
palm,  with  the  arms  of  the  French  Empire  and  those 
of  Holland.  On  the  tomb  is  this  inscription:  "Hor- 
tense Euge"nie  de  Beauharnais,  Duchess  of  Saint-Leu, 
Queen  of  Holland,  born  in  Paris,  April  10,  1783; 
daughter  by  her  first  marriage  of  Marie  Rose  Jose- 
phine Tascher  de  la  Pagerie,  Einyress  of  the  French, 


INTRODUCTION. 


and  of  Viscount  Alexandre  de  Beauharnais;  daugh- 
ter-in-law and  sister-in-law  of  Napoleon  I.,  Emperor 
of  tlie  French ;  married  in  Paris,  January  3,  1802,  to 
Louis  Napoleon,  King  of  Holland;  died  at  her  castle 
of  Arenenberg,  October  5,  1837."  The  two  women, 
the  mother  and  the  daughter,  are  united  in  death,  as 
they  were  in  life.  It  is  impossible  to  look  without 
emotion  at  this  last  resting-plaee  of  such  vanished 
splendor,  of  such  fallen  greatness,  and  Bossuet's 
thoughts  on  the  nothingness  of  human  things  occur 
to  one  in  this  village  church  with  its  two  eloquent 
graves. 

These  two  graves  are  appropriately  placed  under 
the  vaults  of  the  modest  church,  the  bells  of  which, 
according  to  Bourrienne,  made  a  deep  impression 
upon  Bonaparte.  Near  by  is  the  estate  of  Malmaison, 
which  was  for  Josephine  what  the  Little  Trianon  was 
for  Marie  Antoinette,  a  poetic  and  fateful  spot,  which, 
after  having  been  the  abode  of  enchantments,  success, 
and  boundless  hopes,  became  that  of  despair,  humilia- 
tion, of  cruel  struggles,  of  agony,  of  death,  and  which 
finally  deserved  its  name  of  evil  omen,  Malmaison, 
mala  mansio. 

I  am  approaching  the  region  of  legend,  and  recall 
Isabey's  celebrated  drawing;  I  seem  to  see  the  First 
Consul  walking  alone,  in  uniform,  before  the  building. 
I  summon  memories  of  the  beautiful  days  and  starlit 
nights,  of  Malmaison  in  the  year  VIII.,  of  the  dinners 
in  the  open  air,  the  games  upon  the  grass,  of  the  balls 
in  which  all  the  women  are  dressed  in  white.     I  see 


4  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIB  ST  CONSUL. 

Hortense  de  Beauhamais,  a  bright  and  merry  girl, 
running,  swift  as  Atalanta,  in  the  garden ;  or  in  the 
theatre  at  the  end  of  the  gallery,  playing  Rosina  in 
the  "  Barber  of  Seville  "  like  a  consummate  actress. 
I  am  back  in  the  consular  court,  which  is  still  repub- 
lican, full  of  charm,  of  vivacity,  rich  in  youth,  glory, 
and  hope,  with  but  little  dread  of  the  catastrophes 
hid  in  the  dark  future. 

Nine  years  pass,  and  what  a  change !  Poor  Jose- 
phine, broken  with  grief,  enters  once  more  the  house 
where  not  long  before  she  had  arrived  in  joy.  Her 
dark  presentiments  have  been  realized.  The  woman 
to  whom  the  conqueror  of  Italy  used  to  write  burn- 
ing love-letters  is  now  disgraced,  disowned,  and  driven 
forever  from  the  Tuileries.  She  has  just  drunk  to 
the  dregs  the  chalice  of  the  bitterness  of  divorce 
which  she  had  prayed  to  be  spared.  It  is  a  cold,  wet 
December  night ;  the  withered  leaves  lie  about  like 
dead  illusions ;  the  wind  wails,  and  nature  moans. 
The  abode  of  happiness  is  become  a  Calvary.  What 
a  night  the  wretched  woman  passes  in  the  room  which 
she  used  to  occupy  with  Napoleon !  And  when  she 
wakes  in  the  morning,  what  a  sad  eye  she  turns 
towards  the  trees  which  once  shaded  so  much  happi- 
ness !  In  the  course  of  the  day  Napoleon  comes  to 
pay  an  icy  visit  to  his  divorced  wife ;  he  walks  for  a 
few  moments  with  her  in  the  park  and  leaves  her 
without  a  kiss. 

I  picture  to  myself  the  melancholy  scenes  of  May 
29,  1814,   Whitsunday.     Josephine  is    lying    at    the 


INTRODUCTION. 


point  of  death  in  that  chamber  of  Malmaison,  sur- 
rounded by  her  children,  visitors,  and  friends,  "as 
gentle  in  the  face  of  death  as  she  always  had  been  to 
eveiy  one."  When  the  Emperor  left  for  the  island 
of  Elba,  she  said,  "•  Napoleon  is  in  distress,  and  I 
can't  be  with  him."  The  impossibility  of  devoting 
herself  to  him  was  a  terrible  blow  to  her.  "  I  have 
been  a  witness,"  said  Mademoiselle  Avrillon,  "of  the 
sleeplessness  of  the  Empress  Josephine,  and  her  ter- 
rible dreams.  I  have  known  her  to  pass  whole  days 
buried  in  gloomy  thoughts.  I  know  what  I  have 
seen  and  heard,  and  I  am  sure  that  it  was  grief  that 
killed  her."  In  her  last  moments  she  awoke  from 
her  stupor  only  at  intervals,  and  in  a  sort  of  quiet 
delirium  these  few  words  escaped  her,  betraying 
all  the  anguish  of  her  heart :  "Bonaparte,  Elba,  Marie- 
Louise  ! " 

A  year  later,  during  the  Hundred  Days,  Napoleon 
went  to  Malmaison  before  the  ceremony  of  the 
Champ  de  Mai.  He  was  received  by  Queen  Ifor- 
tense,  and  at  his  entrance  into  the  vestibule  he  be- 
trayed profound  emotion.  This  lie  controlled,  how- 
ever, witli  his  wonted  energy,  and  he  desired  to  visit 
everything,  the  house  and  the  park,  lie  wandered 
about,  deep  in  thought ;  one  would  have  said  that 
from  one  patli  to  another  lie  was  pursuing  a  shadow. 
Then  he  took  his  place  at  the  table,  where  he  saw 
the  place  that  Josephine  had  left  empty.  The  break- 
fast was  short  and  silent.  On  rising  from  the  table, 
the  Emperor  passed  into  the  gallery,  and  looked  at 


6  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

every  one  of  the  pictures,  which  were  fixed  in  his 
memory.  Then  he  went  upstairs,  and  came  to  the 
door  of  the  room  where  his  wife,  whom  he  had  loved 
so  warmly,  had  died.  Hortense  wished  to  follow 
him.  "  No,  my  daughter,"  he  said ;  "  I  wish  to  go  in 
alone."  Abandoned  by  the  ungrateful  Marie-Louise, 
Napoleon  fell  into  meditation  before  the  death-bed  of 
the  grateful  Josephine.  Doubtless  he  craved  forgive- 
ness for  the  divorce ;  and  he  said  to  himself,  at  the 
bottom  of  his  heart,  "  It's  because  I  deserted  this 
woman  that  fortune  has  deserted  me."  The  whole 
drama  of  his  life  unrolled  itself  before  his  eyes.  A 
world  of  memories  rose  before  him  like  a  tide.  Oh, 
if  one  could  but  seize  some  part  of  the  past !  If  hope 
could  take  the  place  of  memory !  If  faded  flowers 
would  but  bloom  again  !  But,  alas  !  everything  had 
slipped  through  his  fingers.  Napoleon  left  Jose- 
phine's room  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

Possibly  lie  had  thought  that  at  Malmaison  he 
would,  as  it  were,  dip  into  a  healthful  spring,  and  that 
there,  in  this  home  of  his  glorious  youth,  he  should 
Jind  again  his  self-confidence,  his  faith  in  his  star; 
but  it  was  a  vain  hope.  The  wife  who  had  brought 
him  fjood  fortune  was  no  more.  Once  a^ain  he  was 
to  return  io  Malmaison,  but  after  Waterloo;  and  it 
was  there  that  he  stayed  after  his  second  abdication 
for  five  days,  from  the  25th  to  the  29th  of  June,  1815. 
It  was  again  Queen  Hortense  who  received  him,  a 
respectful  and  faithful  friend  in  his  misfortune.  The 
sky  was  clear,  the  sun  brilliant,  but  the  heart  of  the 


ixTnonucTTox. 


man  who  was  about  to  become  a  prisoner  was  as  dark 
as  the  tomb.  Long  before  he  had  said :  "  One  sees 
everything  through  a  gilded  veil  wliich  makes  it 
bright  and  clear.  Gradually,  as  one  goes  on,  this 
veil  thickens,  until  at  last  it  becomes  almost  black." 
This  moment  had  come ;  a  long  crape  veil  stretched 
over  the  shadows  over  the  horizon.  The  beaten  sol- 
dier of  Waterloo  walked  until  he  was  worn  out  in 
the  park  of  Malmaison,  where  he  passed  his  last 
hours  as  a  free  man,  talking  continually  to  Hortense 
about  Josephine,  whose  portrait  he  wished  to  have. 
But  what  did  he  hear?  The  roar  of  the  cannon  in 
the  plain  of  Saint  Denis.  "What  did  he  see?  Offi- 
cers and  old  soldiers  arriving  in  ragged  uniforms, 
stained  with  dust,  who  told  him  of  the  progress  of 
the  enemy.  Bliieher  had  unwisely  separated  himself 
from  Wellington;  the  Allies  were  advancing  in  two 
columns  of  about  sixty  thousand  men  each,  leaving 
so  much  space  between  them  that  either  could  be 
crushed  before  the  other  could  come  to  its  rescue. 
The  man  of  battle  felt  all  his  genius  aroused.  In 
the  night  between  the  28th  and  the  29th  of  June  he 
made  his  plans ;  if  he  could  be  given  the  command, 
he  promised  to  beat  in  detail  the  Prussians  and  the 
English  with  the  ruins  of  his  Waterloo  army.  In 
the  morning  of  the  29th  he  commissioned  General 
Beker  to  carry  the  following  message  to  Fouchd  and 
the  other  members  of  the  Provisional  Government, 
sitting  at  the  Tuileries.  "I  offer,"  he  said,  "to  place 
myself  at  the  head  of  the  army,  which  at  the  sight  of 


8  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

me  will  recover  all  its  spirit,  to  fall  upon  the  enemy 
with  desperate  energy,  and  to  punish  him  for  his 
rashness.  I  give  my  word  as  a  general,  a  soldier,  and 
a  citizen,  not  to  retain  the  command  for  one  hour 
after  the  certain  and  crushing  victory  which  I  prom- 
ise to  gain,  not  for  myself,  but  for  France." 

Napoleon,  in  full  uniform,  waited  with  his  aides 
for  the  answer  of  the  Provisional  Government ;  if  it 
were  favorable,  he  meant  to  mount  his  horse  at  once. 
General  Beker  returned,  bringing  a  refusal,  and  the 
man  of  Austerlitz  submitted.  If  Napoleon  sinned  by 
pride,  how  severely  he  was  punished !  He,  who  a 
short  time  ago  made  the  world  tremble,  was  com- 
pelled to  consult  a  regicide,  a  former  accomplice  of 
the  cruelties  of  the  comedian  Collot  d  Herbois.  He, 
the  hero  of  battles,  consecrated  by  the  Pope,  the  man 
of  destiny,  the  modern  Csesar,  the  new  Charlemagne, 
obliged  to  submit  to  the  refusal  and  the  contempt 
of  FouclnS ! 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  the  wrath  of  the  young  aides- 
de-camp,  impatient  to  follow  him,  certain  of  victory, 
when  they  were  obliged  to  sheathe  their  swords 
again,  to  unsaddle  their  impatient  steeds,  and  to  see 
the  last  dream  of  patriotism  and  glory  disappear. 
Who  can  describe  the  torture  of  such  an  hour  for  a 
character  like  Napoleon's  ?  The  plaudits  of  the  mul- 
titude, the  enthusiastic  shouts  of  the  soldiers,  the 
intoxicating  joys  of  the  triumph,  the  solemn  entry 
within  the  walls  of  conquered  capitals,  the  bulletins 
of  famous  victories,  ovations,  hosannas,  —  they  were 
all  cruelly  avenged ! 


ixrnnnrcTiox. 


All  was  over.  He  had  to  bow  before  an  implaca- 
ble fate ;  he  had  to  leave  before  the  end  of  the  day. 
The  preparations  for  departure  were  completed.  The 
Prussians  were  advancing  on  the  left  bank  of  the 
Seine,  between  Argenteuil  and  Chaton ;  if  he  had 
remained  a  few  hours  longer,  he  would  have  been 
their  prisoner.  He  had  just  taken  off  his  uniform 
and  put  on  citizen's  dress.  His  mother,  his  brothers, 
and  a  few  soldiers,  a  few  courtiers  of  misfortune,  had 
assembled  to  bid  him  an  eternal  farewell.  Since  he 
had  not  thought  of  providing  himself  with  money, 
Queen  Hortense  begged  him  to  accept  a  diamond 
necklace.  At  first  he  refused;  but  when  she  insisted 
with  tears,  he  let  her  hide  the  necklace  in  his  coat. 
After  having  urged  unity  and  courage  upon  them  all, 
he  embraced  his  faithful  friends  for  the  last  time. 
The  last  one  of  whom  he  took  leave  was  his  mother. 
Their  separation  recalls  the  grand  scenes  of  an- 
tiquity, which  were  sublime  in  their  simplicity. 
"  Farewell,  my  son,"  said  Madame  Letitia.  The 
Emperor  answered,  "Mother,  farewell."  He  got 
into  his  carriage,  and  left  Malmaison  forever. 

To  the  right  of  the  castle  is  to  be  seen  a  stone  ped- 
estal, on  which  there  stood,  until  1870,  a  bronze  eagle 
with  this  touching  inscription:  "The  last  step  of 
Napoleon,  when  leaving  for  Rochefort,  June  29, 1815, 
at  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon."  Why  was  the 
eagle  torn  from  the  pedestal  with  the  inscription? 
It  could  not  excite  anger.  It  was  no  longer  the 
royal  bird,  floating  in  the  clouds,  gazing  at  the  sun  ; 


10  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

it  was  the  wounded  eagle,  fluttering  along  the 
ground,  like  the  swallow  before  a  storm.  Oh,  the 
melancholy  of  greatness !  Vicissitudes  of  fate !  how 
eloquent  is  your  language  in  these  times  of  revolu- 
tion, when  fortune  seems  to  make  sport  of  kings  and 
emperors !  How  insignificant  is  man,  and  how  hard 
it  is  to  find  any  trace  of  his  footsteps ! 

In  the  month  of  August,  1831,  a  woman  was  weep- 
ing before  the  iron  gate  of  Malmaison ;  with  her  was 
a  young  man  of  twenty-three,  who  shared  her  grief. 
This  young  man  was  her  son.  She  insisted  on  being 
admitted,  but  entrance  was  obstinately  refused.  This 
woman  was  Queen  Hortense ;  the  young  man  was 
the  future  emperor  Napoleon  III.  The  mother  and 
the  son  had  just  been  kneeling  before  the  tomb  of 
Josephine  in  the  church  of  Rueil,  and  it  is  thus  that 
the  former  queen  describes  the  emotion  that  she  felt 
then  :  "  What  a  drear  feeling  came  over  me  when  I 
knelt  before  that  cherished  image  and  sadly  thought 
that  of  all  whom  she  had  loved  I  alone  remained 
with  my  son,  isolated,  and  compelled  to  flee  the  spot 
where  she  reposed.  The  great  number  of  flowers 
covering  this  monument,  which  my  brother  and  I 
had  such  difficulty  in  getting  permission  to  build, 
proved  to  me  that  at  any  rate  she  was  lying  among 
friends  who  held  her  memory  dear.  Her  daughter 
only  was  forgotten." 

It  was  after  this  pious  visit  to  the  church  of  Rueil, 
where  she  herself  was  one  day  to  be  buried,  that 
Queen  Hortense  and  her  son  wished  to  revisit  Mai- 


INTRODUCTION.  11 


maison.  She  said :  "  I  stopped  at  the  gate  of  the 
castle,  and  insisted  upon  entering.  It  is  from  there 
that  the  Emperor  started  to  leave  France  forever.  .  .  . 
It  was  impossible  to  secure  any  remission  of  the 
orders  of  the  new  proprietor,  who  had  forbidden 
entrance  to  the  castle  without  a  card.  My  nephew 
had  sold  Malmaison  to  a  banker,  who  kept  a  part  of 
the  gardens  and  the  castle,  and  had  sold  the  rest.  It 
was  difficult  to  recognize  the  place,  and  I  could  not 
believe  myself  at  the  same  spot  which  I  had  left  so 
beautiful,  where  I  had  always  been  so  gladly  received, 
when  admission  to  it  was  so  cruelly  denied  me." 

How  painful  it  must  have  been  to  see  strangers 
thus  occupying  a  dwelling  which  she  had  inhabited 
with  those  she  loved!  It  is  a  bit  of  the  irony  of 
fate,  which  seems  to  take  a  pleasure  in  persecuting 
wretched  humanity  with  refined  cruelty.  The  Mal- 
maison of  Napoleon  and  of  Josephine,  the  home  of 
his  glory  as  consul,  the  last  refuge  of  the  defeated 
soldier  of  Waterloo  before  his  departure  for  the  rock 
of  Saint  Helena,  all  this  belonging  to  strangers,  while 
the  woman  who  had  so  shone  there  had  not  the  right 
to  enter  the  house  to  go  and  pray  in  the  room  where 
she  had  seen  her  mother  draw  her  last  breath !  No 
one  recognized  her.  She  had  hoped  to  find  there 
what  her  heart  had  left,  to  catch  in  the  song  of  the 
birds  some  trace  of  departed  joys,  or  of  her  old 
griefs  in  tin:  murmur  of  the  wind.  But  nature  is 
insensible  to  our  sorrows,  and  nothing  remains  of  our 
dreams  and  illusions. 


12  THE  WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

In  1842  another  unhappy  sovereign,  Queen  Chris- 
tina of  Spain,  in  one  of  her  excursions  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  Paris,  visited  the  estate  of  Malmaison, 
attracted  by  the  painful  memories  which  clung  about 
the  place.  She  bought  the  castle  and  lived  in  it 
until  1861.  On  one  side  she  built  a  chapel,  now- 
empty;  but  the  arms  of  the  Spanish  Bourbons  yet 
remain  above  the  place  where  the  Queen  used  to 
pray.  In  1861  she  consented  to  sell  Malmaison  to 
the  Emperor,  who  paid  eleven  hundred  thousand 
francs  and  presented  it  to  the  state  as  a  sort  of 
national  jewel.  The  castle  was  restored  and  deco- 
rated, and  assumed  its  former  aspect  under  the  days 
of  the  Consulate  and  the  Empire.  One  day  Napoleon 
III.  shut  himself  for  several  hours  in  the  gallery,  and 
with  his  own  hands  hung  up  the  principal  pictures 
in  the  places  where  he  remembered  having  seen  them 
when  he  was  a  child. 

In  1867,  at  the  time  of  the  Exposition,  the  Em- 
press Euge"nie  conceived  the  excellent  idea  of  collect- 
ing at  Malmaison  and  the  Little  Trianon  the  various 
objects,  pictures  and  furniture,  which  could  be  proved 
to  have  belonged  to  the  illustrious  occupants  of  these 
two  historic  mansions.  The  French,  and  even  more 
noticeably  foreigners,  crowded  thither  and  gazed  with 
a  sort  of  awe  at  the  two  valuable  museums ;  for 
foreigners  take  perhaps  a  deeper  interest  in  the 
glories  of  France  than  do  the  French  themselves. 
At  Malmaison  they  saw  the  council-table  of  the  min- 
isters, Josephine's  tapestry-frame  and  harp,  the  Em- 


INTRODUCTION.  13 


peror's  field-desk,  the  clock  that  stood  in  his  room  at 
Saint  Helena,  the  little  iron  bed  with  green  silk  cur- 
tains in  which  he  died.  Malmaison  had  never  been 
so  crowded  with  visitors  ;  but  this  climax  of  its  fame 
was  not  far  removed  from  a  probably  final  decay. 

The  janitress,  who  was  in  the  service  of  Queen 
Christina,  and  has  been  in  the  castle  ever  since,  de- 
scribes the  last  incidents  that  have  come  under  notice, 
with  a  sort  of  vigorous  and  popular  eloquence.  She 
says  that  in  1867  she  noticed  in  the  park  some  Ger- 
mans in  civil  dress,  who  were  examining  everything 
about  them  with  the  greatest  care,  and  that  in  the 
war  she  saw  the  same  Germans  again,  this  time  in 
uniform,  take  possession  of  the  castle  ;  and  that  a 
few  days  before  the  war  broke  out,  the  young  Prince 
Imperial  came  to  visit  Malmaison,  and  that  she  was 
struck  by  his  melancholy  expression.  She  adds,  that 
just  as  he  was  leaving,  a  thunder-storm  broke  forth, 
and  a  tree  which  had  been  planted  by  Napoleon  and 
Josephine  was  half  shattered  by  the  lightning.  "An 
evil  omen,"  she  said.  Then  she  goes  on  to  tell  how 
they  managed  to  bind  up  the  old  tree-trunk  ;  but  that 
when  they  began  to  divide  the  place  into  house-lots, 
in  1871),  the  tree  was  cut  down  and  uprooted.  At 
the  same  time  Josephine's  descendant,  the  heir  of  the 
Napoleons,  was  dying  in  Zululand. 

After  the  fall  of  the  Second  Empire,  the  state  sold 
Malmaison  to  a  private  person.  The  park  was  cut 
up  into  lots  and  sold  to  different  buyers,  who  are 
building  houses.     The  facade  of  the  castle  is  intact, 


14  THE    WIFE   OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

but  the  interior  is  in  a  melancholy  state  of  dilapida- 
tion, shorn  of  ornaments,  furniture,  and  hangings. 

Malmaison,  which  at  the  beginning  of  the  century 
was,  as  it  were,  a  symbol  of  France  under  the  Con- 
sulate; Malmaison,  still  full  of  the  gigantic  plans 
and  the  proud  dreams  of  the  ambitious  hero  of 
Marengo ;  Malmaison,  sacked  in  1815  by  Bliicher's 
soldiers, — became  in  the  last  war  a  Prussian  barrack. 
The  troops  of  the  victor  at  Sedan  installed  them- 
selves in  triumph  where  the  First  Consul,  in  his  mili- 
tary court,  had  worn  his  most  martial  air.  Silent 
and  deserted,  Malmaison  seems  like  a  tomb.  Its  bare 
walls  are  gloomier  than  ruins.  Yet  there  is  a  certain 
majesty  in  their  bareness.  The  stones  of  the  castle 
speak  that  mysterious  language  which  may  be  heard 
in  the  silence.  No  man  with  feeling  for  poetry  or 
history  can  enter  this  house  without  being  filled  with 
respect.  One  lowers  one's  voice  and  steps  softly,  as 
if  dreading  to  disturb  the  sleep  of  illustrious  hosts. 
The  deserted  halls  seem  to  be  tenanted  by  phantoms 
of  the  past.  In  the  twilight  one  would  say  that  it  is 
a  haunted  spot,  and  haunted  by  what  ghosts  ! 

How  many  cataclysms  tkere  have  been  in  France 
during  the  last  century !  The  scythe  wielded  by  war 
and  revolution  commits  more  grievous  ravages  than 
those  of  time.  Of  all  the  buildings  which  were  the 
scene  of  the  last  agonies  of  Louis  XVI.  and  Marie 
Antoinette,  what  is  now  left?  The  Tuileries  are 
burned.  There  is  not  one  stone  left  of  the  Manege 
where  Louis  XVI.  was  tried,  of  the  Temple  towei 


INTRODUCTION.  15 


which  served  as  prison  for  the  unhappy  monarch  and 
his  family.  The  little  dungeon  of  the  Queen  in  the 
Conciergerie  alone  remains,  and  the  crowds  who  daily 
pass  through  the  place  of  her  execution  do  not  know 
even  where  the  martyr's  scaffold  stood.  And  what 
is  left  of  what  one  may  call  the  scenery  of  the  con- 
sular epoch?  The  house  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire, 
whence  issued  the  18th  Brumaire,  is  destroyed,  its 
very  site  is  not  to  be  determined ;  Saint  Cloud  and  the 
Tuileries 1  are  mere  stone  skeletons.  Shells  and  pe- 
troleum have  destroyed  everything.  Great  stretches 
of  the  sky  appear  through  the  empty  arches,  and  one 
would  say  that  these  fresh  ruins  are  as  old  as  Pom- 
peii or  Herculaneum.  The  superb  appearance  of  the 
two  palaces  which  they  were  in  their  splendor  is  so 
deeply  printed  on  the  memory,  that  at  certain  mo- 
ments one,  gazing  at  the  ruins,  would  think  himself 
the  victim  of  a  nightmare,  and  would  expect  on 
waking  to  find  the  two  monuments  as  they  were 
before  the  fire.  If  Josephine  could  come  back  to  life, 
how  surprised  she  would  be  at  this  destruction ! 
What  would  be  her  reflections  before  the  ruins  of  the 
Tuileries  and  of  Saint  Cloud !  What  an  impression 
would  be  produced  by  Malmaison  dilapidated  and 
deserted ! 

Well,  if  revolutions  destroy,  let  history  yet  try  to 
build  up  what  they  have  pitilessly  overthrown  !  His- 
tory is  a  reconstruction,  which  will  permit  us  to  see 

1  The  ruins  of  the  Tuileries  have  been  removed  since  the  above 
was  written.  — Tit. 


16  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

again  with  the  eyes  of  our  soul  what  we  can  no  longer 
see  with  our  real  eyes,  to  build  up  ruins,  to  people 
empty  halls,  to  hear  amid  the  silence  the  echo  of  con- 
versation, of  the  trumpets,  of  the  orchestras  of  former 
days.  There  may  reach  our  ear  the  distant  sound  of 
Josephine's  gentle  voice  which  the  First  Consul  used 
to  prefer  to  the  applause  of  his  people  and  his  army. 
Let  us  summon  forth  the  image  of  this  woman  under 
the  ancient  trees  which  have  survived  so  many  disas- 
ters. While  we  think  of  her,  we  shall  gaze  at  the 
views  which  so  often  charmed  her,  at  the  prospect 
which  was  for  her  a  consoling  friend,  at  the  river 
which  flowed  beneath  her  feet.  Let  us  consult  her 
friends :  here  are  her  husband's  secretaries,  Bourri- 
enne  and  Me"neval ;  here  is  the  lady  in  waiting, 
Madame  de  Re*musat ;  there  is  the  Duchess  of  Ab- 
rantes,  Miot  de  Melito,  Rcederer,  General  de  Segur, 
Thibaudeau,  Marmont,  Lav  alette.  After  long  study 
of  their  memoirs,  one  seems  to  know  the  authors,  to 
be  near  them,  in  the  same  room,  exchanging  ideas 
with  them,  listening  to  their  reminiscences,  hearing 
their  anecdotes  and  their  talk  about  the  persons  and 
events  of  bygone  days.  Let  us  ask  them,  in  this 
sketch,  to  make  us  understand  the  character  of  the 
wife  of  the  First  Consul,  and  the  part  she  played, 
to  describe  to  us  this  period  of  four  years  and  a  half 
which  was  so  brilliant  and  busy,  to  show  us  society 
forming  itself  anew,  with  drawing-rooms  opening 
again,  the  foreign  aristocracy  resuming  its  journeys 
to  Paris,  the  reopening  of  the  opera  balls,,  as  luxury, 


INTRODUCTION.  17 


elegance,  and  fashion  reassert  themselves,  while  at 
the  same  time  the  populace  easily  exchanges  liberty 
for  glory,  and  sets  a  man  above  every  institution. 

Fox  said  in  1802  that  in  the  person  of  the  First 
Consul  there  were  three  Bonapartes  equally  worthy 
of  study ;  the  one  of  Malmaison,  of  Saint  Cloud, 
and  of  the  Tuileries.  As  for  Josephine,  she  was 
always  and  everywhere  the  same  :  affable,  gracious, 
obliging,  always  seeking  peace,  sharing  none  of  the 
severities,  the  anger,  or  the  petulance  of  her  hus- 
band, dissuading  lrim  from  thoughts  of  vengeance, 
anxious  to  see  him  kind,  generous,  and  inclined  to 
pity.  This  modest,  disinterested  woman,  who  was 
essentially  tender  and  good,  is  one  of  the  most  amia- 
ble and  sympathetic  figures  of  history.  If  her  statue 
has  been  removed  from  the  avenue  leading  from  the 
Arch  of  Triumph  which  bore  her  name,  her  memory 
at  any  rate  cannot  perish.  The  charm  which  she 
exercised  upon  her  contemporaries  has  survived,  and 
even  when  one  thinks,  whether  rightly  or  wrongly, 
that  he  has  discovered  flaws  in  her  private  life,  one 
feels  an  attraction  towards  her.  Whether  alive  or 
dead,  good  women  deserve  our  love.  That  greatest 
quality,  a  woman's  real  ornament,  kindness,  would 
make  us  pardon  many  faults.  Josephine  wished  to 
call  forth  no  tears  but  those  of  joy  and  gratitude. 
Her  ambition  was  to  be  Bonaparte's  good  angel.  She 
often  gave  him  wise  advice,  and  the  time  of  his  most 
earnest  devotion  to  her  was  that  of  his  greatest  suc- 
cess. 


18  THE  WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

In  our  opinion  the  Consulate  is  Napoleon's  high- 
water  mark ;  his  fall  began  with  the  murder  of  the 
Duke  of  Enghien,  the  inauguration  of  the  imperial 
period.  From  that  moment  a  cloud  hangs  over  his 
star :  this  cloud  is  at  first  but  a  black  point,  but  it 
grew  from  year  to  year,  and  at  last  produced  the 
dense  gloom  of  the  final  catastrophe.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Napoleon  accumulated  crown  upon  crown  for 
himself  and  his  family ;  the  glory  of  the  Emperor  could 
not  outshine  the  glory  of  the  citizen.  Josephine  had 
a  presentiment  of  this,  and  the  throne  filled  her  with 
a  secret  dread.  She  knew  that  as  her  greatness 
increased,  her  happiness  would  diminish,  and  yearned 
to  descend  as  much  as  her  husband  aspired  to  rise. 


PART  I. 

THE  TEMPORARY   CONSULATE. 


I. 


THE   LUXEMBOURG. 

ON  the  21st  Brumaire,  year  VIII.,  there  appeared 
in  the  Moniteur  the  following  short  paragraph  : 
"  Paris,  20th  Brumaire.  The  three  Consuls  have 
taken  their  seats  in  the  Luxembourg.  In  the  even- 
ing the  public  buildings  and  many  private  houses 
were  illuminated."  From  the  moment  of  his  instal- 
lation at  the  Luxembourg  the  future  Caesar  regarded 
himself  us  the  absolute  head  of  the  state.  "  He  is  a 
pike  who  will  swallow  the  two  other  fish,"  said 
Madame  de  Permont  to  his  mother,  Madame  Bona- 
parte. "  O  Panoria  !  "  replied  Madame  Letitia,  with 
reproachful  accent,  for  at  this  moment  she  still  be- 
lieved in  the  genuine  republicanism  of  her  son.  "  The 
surprising  tiling,"  said  Edgar  Quinet,  "is  the  way 
in  which  all  combined  to  blind  themselves.  In  fact, 
every  one  was  new  to  servitude.  Even  those  who 
ran  towards  it  most  eagerly  imagined  that  they  were 
acquiring  a  new  form  of  liberty.  .  .  .  Not  a  day 
passed  without  an  approach  to  absolute  power,  but  no 
one  seemed  to  perceive  it."     Bonaparte,  a  sovereign 

in  fact,  was  not  yet  one  in  appearance ;  he  regarded 

21 


22  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIB  ST  CONSUL. 

republican  susceptibility,  but  gradually,  by  crafty 
and  astute  steps,  he  began  to  accustom  men  to  his 
rule.  The  old  customs  begin  to  reappear  one  by  one. 
Josephine  ceases  to  be  called  Citoyenne  Bonaparte, 
and  the  woman  who  is  soon  to  be  Empress  of  the 
French  and  Queen  of  Italy  is  designated  as  Madame 
Bonaparte.  For  a  little  while  there  are  preserved 
the  names  of  things  which  no  longer  exist,  such  as 
liberty  and  the  Republic,  and  the  future  Emperor 
is  still  called  the  citizen  First  Consul. 

Bonaparte  occupied  in  the  little  Luxembourg  the 
apartment  on  the  ground  floor,  to  the  right  as  one 
enters  from  the  rue  de  Vaugirard.  His  office  was  near 
a  hidden  staircase  leading  to  the  first  floor,  where 
Josephine  lived.  After  breakfast,  which  was  served 
at  ten  o'clock,  Bonaparte  used  to  talk  for  a  few  min- 
utes with  his  aides-de-camp,  and  then  he  betook  him- 
self to  his  work. 

"  On  leaving  the  council,"  says  his  secretary,  Bour- 
rienne,  "he  would  go  to  his  office  singing,  and  Heaven 
knows  how  out  of  tune  he  used  to  sing.  He  would 
sign  a  few  letters,  stretch  himself  in  his  easy-chair, 
and  read  a  few  letters  of  the  evening  before  and  the 
occasional  publications  of  the  day.  When  there  was 
no  council,  he  would  stay  in  his  office  and  talk  with 
me,  always  singing  and  cutting  the  arm  of  his  chair, 
sometimes  looking  like  a  big  boy.  Then  he  would 
start  up,  and  sketch  the  plan  of  some  monument 
which  was  to  be  built,  or  dictate  the  vast  things 
which  were  to  astonish  or  appal  the  world.  .  .  .   Din- 


THE  LUXEMBOURG.  23 

ner  was  at  live  o'clock.  After  dinner  the  First  Con- 
sul used  to  go  up  to  Josephine's  apartment,  where  he 
was  accustomed  to  receive  the  ministers ;  he  always 
took  pleasure  in  seeing  the  minister  of  foreign  affairs, 
especially  after  that  portfolio  was  in  the  hands  of  M. 
de  Talleyrand.  At  midnight,  and  often  earlier,  he 
used  to  give  the  signal  for  breaking  up,  by  saying 
suddenly,  'Let  us  go  to  bed  !  '  " 

Josephine  began  to  receive  at  the  Luxembourg 
people  of  the  old  regime.  The  title  of  Madame 
pained  more  than  one  Republican  who  longed  for  the 
simpler  Citoyenne.  "  They  consoled  themselves  after- 
wards at  the  Tuileries,"  says  Bourrienne,  "by  using 
Your  Highness,  on  occasions  of  great  ceremony,  and 
merely  Monseigneur  in  private."  The  First  Consul 
took  the  most  careful  precautions  to  combine  certain 
revolutionary  memories  with  the  symptoms  of  reac- 
tion. He  abolished  the  holiday  of  January  21,  the 
anniversary  of  the  execution  of  Louis  XVI.,  but 
he  preserved  as  national  holidays  the  14th  of  July 
and  the  1st  of  Vendemiaire,  in  memory  of  the  tak- 
ing of  the  Bastille  and  the  establishment  of  the  Re- 
public. He  let  his  wife  surround  herself  with  people 
of  the  old  court,  but  he  married  his  third  sister  to  a 
soldier  of  fortune,  the  son  of  an  innkeeper  of  Cahors. 

It  was  at  the  Luxembourg  that  was  celebrated, 
January  20,  1800,  the  civil  marriage  of  Caroline 
Bonaparte  with  Murat,  a  general  in  command  of  a 
division.  Not  till  two  years  later  was  the  nuptial 
benediction  given  to  the  couple,  on  the  occasion  of 


24  THE   WIFE  OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

the  marriage  of  Hortense  de  Beauharnais  with  Louis 
Bonaparte.  Murat,  who  was  born  at  Cahors,  March 
25,  1771,  was  not  yet  twenty-nine  years  old  when  he 
was  married.  Caroline,  who  was  born  at  Ajaccio, 
March  25,  1782,  was  under  eighteen.  According  to 
the  author  of  the  Recollections  of  Madame  Re'ca- 
mier  (Madame  Recamier  was  very  intimate  with 
Madame  Murat),  "of  all  the  sisters  of  Napoleon 
Caroline  was  the  one  who  most  resembled  him.  She 
was  not  so  regularly  beautiful  as  his  sister  Pauline 
(Madame  Leclerc),  but  she  belonged  distinctly  to 
the  Napoleonic  type ;  she  was  of  a  marvellously  rich 
coloring ;  her  intelligence  was  quick,  her  will  impe- 
rious, and  the  contrast  of  the  girlish  grace  of  her  face 
with  the  decision  of  her  character  made  her  a  very 
attractive  person.  She  continued  to  come,  as  she 
had  done  when  a  young  girl,  to  all  the  entertain- 
ments at  Madame  Re'camier's,  in  the  rue  du  Mont 
Blanc."  This  is  the  portrait  which  the  Duchess  of 
Abrantes  drew  of  her :  "  Caroline  Bonaparte  was  a 
very  pretty  girl,  as  fresh  as  a  rose,  but  in  no  way 
comparable,  in  regularity  of  feature,  to  Madame 
Leclerc.  Still,  she  was  very  attractive  on  account 
of  her  expression  and  the  astounding  brilliancy  of 
her  complexion.  Her  skin  was  like  white  satin  tinted 
with  pink  ;  her  feet,  hands,  and  arms  were  even  per- 
fect models,  her  teeth  were  charming,  like  those  of 
all  the  Bonapartes."  Prince  Metternich,  who  was  a 
great  admirer  of  her,  said  of  her  :  "Caroline  combined 
with  an  agreeable  faee  a  rare  mind.     She  had  care- 


THE  LUXEMBOURG.  25 


fully  studied  her  brother's  character,  and  had  no 
illusion  about  any  of  his  faults ;  she  also  knew  the 
weak  points  in  her  husband's  character,  and  would 
have  guided  him  if  he  had  submitted  to  guidance." 

Young,  handsome,  full  of  military  enthusiasm, 
Murat  shone  in  the  first  rank  among  these  knights- 
errant  of  democracy ;  he  was  one  of  those  illustri- 
ous plebeians  who  have  no  need  of  ancestors,  because 
they  are  themselves  ancestors.  In  the  whole  French 
army  there  was  not  such  a  proud  cavalier.  His  pro- 
verbial bravery,  his  dashing  steeds,  his  rich  uniforms, 
the  lire  and  gayety  of  his  southern  nature  made  him 
a  popular  figure.  He  could  not  make  his  appearance 
on  the  battle-field  or  at  a  review  without  attracting 
every  eye.  Yet,  in  fact,  the  First  Consul  had  no 
sympathy  for  this  brilliant  officer.  The  Duchess 
of  Abrantes  thus  explains  his  coolness:  "The  true 
cause  of  Napoleon's  moderate  friendship  for  Murat 
(for  in  spite  of  their  relationship,  he  never  loved 
him)  was  nothing  but  Murat's  rash  conduct  when 
he  came  to  Paris  to  bring  the  first  flags  won  by  the 
army  of  Italy.  Those  who  know  Napoleon's  charac- 
ter will  easily  understand  how  Murat  injured  himself 
by  quietly  boasting  of  his  influence  in  the  Directory, 
at  the  Ministry  of  War,  through  Madame  Bonaparte 
and  Madame  Tallien." 

In  his  Memoirs,  Bourrienne  refers  to  the  same 
incident.  He  says  that  Madame  Bonaparte  and 
Madame  Tallien  had  Murat  appointed  brigadier-gen- 
eral ;  that  on  his  return  to  Italy  he  had  incurred  the 


26  THE  WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

disapproval  of  the  commander-in-chief;  that  by  the 
influence  of  these  ladies  he  obtained  a  place  in  the 
army  of  Egypt,  but  that  on  the  voyage  thither,  on 
board  of  the  Orient,  Bonaparte  did  not  once  speak  to 
him.  Bourrienne,  indeed,  goes  so  far  as  to  insinuate 
that  at  Messoudiah,  Murat's  was  one  of  the  two  names 
mentioned  by  Junot  to  excite  Bonaparte's  jealousy 
and  his  distrust  of  Josephine.  But  the  bold  officer 
performed  such  prodigies  of  valor,  and  was  notably 
so  conspicuous  on  the  field  of  Aboukir,  that  the  com- 
mander-in-chief could  not  refuse  him  the  expression 
of  his  satisfaction. 

Murat's  conduct  at  Saint  Cloud  on  the  19th  Bru- 
maire  brought  about  a  perfect  reconciliation  with 
Bonaparte,  who  appointed  him  commander  of  the 
Consular  Guard.  Nevertheless,  when  he  came  to  the 
Luxembourg  to  ask  for  the  hand  of  Caroline,  Bona- 
parte at  first  did  not  favor  his  suit.  He  hesitated  to 
give  to  a  plebeian  his  sister,  who  had  already  been 
sought  by  a  great  Italian  nobleman,  the  Prince  of 
Santa  Croce.  He  thought,  too,  that  there  were  in 
the  army  abler  and  more  famous  generals  than 
Murat;  as,  for  example,  Moreau  and  Augereau.  But 
Caroline  and  Murat  had  been  in  love  since  the  Ital- 
ian campaign,  and  their  marriage  was  warmly  favored 
by  Josephine. 

When  Murat  made  his  demand,  Bonaparte  received 
him  with  unbending  gravity,  and  gave  no  positive 
answer.  In  the  evening  this  proposal  was  the  sub- 
ject  of   conversation    in    the    drawing-room   of    the 


THE  LUXEMBOURG.  27 

Luxembourg.  Josephine,  Hortense,  and  Bourrienne 
warmly  pleaded  Murat's  cause.  To  their  earnest 
arguments  the  First  Consul  replied :  "  Murat  is  the 
son  of  an  innkeeper.  In  the  lofty  rank  in  which  for- 
tune and  glory  have  placed  me,  I  cannot  mingle  his 
blood  with  mine.  Besides,  there  is  no  hurry ;  I  will 
see  about  it  later."'  Murat's  two  supporters  were 
not  discouraged;  they  spoke  earnestly  of  his  love  for 
Caroline,  of  his  devotion  to  the  First  Consul,  of  his 
excellent  conduct  in  Egypt.  "  Yes,  I  acknowledge," 
said  Bonaparte,  "  that  Murat  was  superb  at  Aboukir." 
Josephine  and  Hortense  redoubled  their  solicitations, 
and  before  the  end  of  the  evening  the  First  Consul 
had  given  his  consent.  Before  he  went  to  bed  he 
said  to  Bourrienne,  "Well,  you  ought  to  be  satisfied; 
and  I  am,  too.  On  the  whole,  Murat  suits  my  sister, 
and  then  people  won't  say  that  I  am  proud,  and 
seeking  grand  marriages.  If  I  had  given  my  sister 
to  a  nobleman,  all  your  Jacobins  would  have  been 
shrieking  out,  Counter-revolution." 

According  to  General  de  Se'gur,  two  considerations 
had  decided  the  First  Consul:  "one,  which  the  study 
of  the  innermost  secrets  of  the  human  heart,  every- 
where the  same,  can  alone  explain,  was  the  secret 
satisfaction  that  he  felt  at  Madame  Bonaparte's 
intercession  in  favor  of  the  marriage ;  the  other, 
which  was  entirely  political,  proved  the  truth  of 
what  Napoleon  said  about  himself;  namely,  that  his 
ambitious  advance  was  gradual  and  the  result  of 
events ;  that  his  ambition  grew  always  according  to 


28  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

the  circumstances,  and  that  finally  the  lofty  height 
to  which  it  attained  was  in  no  way  premeditated  at 
the  beginning."  If,  in  1800,  he  married  his  sister  to 
the  son  of  an  innkeeper,  it  was  because  he  was  not  at 
all  sure  of  becoming  one  day  Emperor,  and  because 
he  wanted  to  please  the  army,  reassure  the  Republi- 
cans, and  give  a  pledge  to  the  democracy.  As  Gen- 
eral de  Se*gur  points  out,  the  man  who  accepted  Mu- 
rat  for  his  brother-in-law  was  probably  not  thinking 
of  ever  putting  on  his  head  the  crown  of  Charle- 
magne or  of  allying  himself  with  the  house  of 
Austria. 

Bonaparte's  regard  for  the  Republican  opinions 
could  not  last  long.  It  would  have  had  a  longer  life 
if  public  sentiment  had  shown  itself  firmer,  and  there 
would  have  been  no  Emperor  if  the  citizens  had  not 
transformed  themselves  into  subjects. 

"  What  a  pleasure  for  a  master,"  says  Edgar  Quinet, 
"  to  feel  beneath  his  feet  the  proud  spirit  of  a  people 
which  but  just  now  was  defying  heaven  and  earth ! 
That  a  general,  drunk  with  victory,  should  impose 
himself  upon  a  nation  which  adores  him,  is  in  the 
order  of  events.  That  armies  which  had  sworn  to 
live  free  or  die  should  carry  their  leader  on  a  shield, 
is  a  thing  to  bo  read  in  every  history.  But  that  a  na- 
tion should  not  feel  the  yoke  that  is  heavy  on  its  neck  ; 
that,  far  from  suffering  from  it,  it  should  accept  it  as 
a  benefit  and  a  deliverance  ;  that  the  men  of  liberty, 
Daunou,  Cabanis,  Gre*goire,  and  Carnot,  even  La 
Fayette,  should  be  the  first  to  glorify  their  own  over- 


THE  LUXEMBOURG.  29 

throw ;  that  they  should  run  to  their  suicide  with  no 
presentiment  to  warn  them ;  that  evidence  should 
not  affect  them;  that  the  bare  sword  should  not 
warn  them,  — all  this  is  a  new  fact  such  as  the  world 
had  not  yet  seen."1  Reaction  appeared  everywhere. 
Carnot  accepted  the  Ministry  of  War.  The  destroyer 
of  the  Bastille,  Palloy,  "  the  lifelong  patriot,"  cele- 
brated the  accession  of  the  First  Consul  with  a  hand- 
some eno-raved  medallion.     The  "Almanack  of  the 

o 

Nineteenth  Century"  contained  the  following  dia- 
logue between  Diogenes  and  a  man  of  the  Revolu- 
tion :  — 

What  did  you  do  to  be  a  man  ? 

I  made  the  10th  of  August,  the  31st  of  May,  the  18th  Fruc- 
tidor,  the  30th  Prairial. 

You  are  a  mere  destroyer;  you  are  not  a  man. 

I  have  worked  at  three  constitutions  with  which  people  have 
become  disgusted. 

You  are  a  mere  fool. 

I  have  made  more  than  a  hundred  speeches  from  the  tribune. 

You  are  a  mere  babbler. 

I  have  understood  how  to  please  all  parties. 

You  are  a  mere  weather-cock. 

I  have  proposed  more  than  two  hundred  toasts  to  equality 
and  fraternity. 

You  are  a  mere  sot. 

I  cursed  Robespierre  the  eve  of  his  death,  and  spoke  against 
Barras  the  29th  Brumaire. 

You  are  a  mere  slave. 

I  invented  some  fine  phrases  about  liberty. 

You  are  a  mere  rhetorician. 

I  wrote  a  good  book  on  morality. 

You  are  a  mere  hypocrite. 


30  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

I  have  had  my  enemies  shot,  who  were  accused  of  being  hos- 
tile to  the  state. 

You  are  a  mere  monster. 
I  followed  orders. 
You  are  a  hangman. 

The  demagogic  fury  had  died  out,  and  to  call  a 
man  a  Jacobin  was  the  deepest  insult.  The  phrases 
which  previously  had  aroused  and  inspired  the  masses 
now  seemed  like  old-fashioned  empty  formulas.  The 
following  chapter  of  the  "  Brief  Revolutionary  Cate- 
chism "  was  on  every  one's  lips :  — 

Question.  What  is  the  aim  of  a  revolution? 

Answer.  To  destroy  in  order  to  change,  and  to  change  in 
order  to  destroy. 

Q.  How  many  elements  are  there  in  a  revolution  ? 

A .  Four :  deficit,  poverty,  audacity,  and  fear. 

Q.  How  many  virtues  ? 

A.  Two:  robbery  and  assassination. 

Q.  Who  profit  by  revolutions  ? 

A.  The  rascals  and  the  ambitious. 

Q.  What  becomes  of  the  people  in  a  revolution  ? 

A.  They  cut  a  sorry  figure. 

Q.  Why  so? 

A.  Because  whether  they  take  part  in  it  or  not,  they  are 
always  the  victims. 

Q.  In  what  way  ? 

A.  In  this  way:  all  means  are  good  for  crime  in  attack,  but 
not  for  virtue  in  defence. 

Q.  How  does  a  revolution  end? 

A.  By  an  excess  of  evil,  in  the  blindness  of  the  leaders,  and 
in  the  awakening  of  the  people. 

Aided  by  such  a  state  of  public  opinion,  Napoleon 
himself  must  have  been  astonished  at  the  ease  and 


THE   LUXEMBOUUC  o1 


rapidity  with  which  his  plans  were  accomplished. 
Nevertheless,  he  deemed  it  wise  to  take  many 
precautions  in  the  form,  at  least,  if  not  in  the  sub- 
stance. He  preserved  some  appearance  of  respect 
for  the  ideas  and  the  institutions  which  he  had  so 
often  sworn  to  defend.  He  saw  that  if  he  changed 
too  suddenly,  he  would  be  exposed  to  the  bitter  re- 
proaches of  his  old  fellow-soldiers,  before  whom  he 
had  so  often  protested  his  faith  in  the  Republic.  He 
had  seen  too  clearly  the  grand  and  terrible  side  of 
the  Revolution  to  trifle  with  it.  Since  the  hour  for 
throwing  off  Ins  mask  had  not  yet  struck,  he  as- 
sumed the  appearance  of  a  sort  of  citizen-king,  who, 
while  really  the  master  of  France,  continued  to  call 
himself  simply  General.  He  decided  to  install  him- 
self at  the  Tuileries  ;  but  the  Convention  and  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety  had  sat  there,  and  the 
famous  palace  recalled  both  royal  and  revolutionary 
memories.  Besides,  it  was  called  the  Government 
Palace ;  and  since  the  First  Consul  was  averse  to  liv- 
ing there  alone,  he  determined  to  bring  the  Third 
Consul  there  too,  but  to  establish  him  in  the  Pavilion 
of  Flora,  and  take  for  himself  the  royal  apartments, 
which  had  been  occupied  by  Louis  XIV.,  Louis  XV., 
and  Louis  XVI. 

While  the  First  Consul  was  thus  aspiring  to  the 
palaces  of  kings,  Josephine  gave  no  evidence  of  any 
desire  to  leave  the  Luxembourg,  which  would  have 
been  perfectly  satisfactory  as  a  winter  residence  ;  as 
a  summer  residence,  she  could  ask  fur  nothing  better 


32  THE    WIFE  OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

than    Malmaison,  and   she    did   not   care    for   Saint 
Cloud  or  Compiegne  or  Fontainebleau. 

She  was  passionately  fond  of  jewels,  but  she  did 
not  care  to  wear  them  fastened  in  a  royal  crown. 
She  did  not  deem  it  necessary  to  change  into  ladies- 
in-waiting  those  women  of  the  old  regime  whose 
society  she  enjoyed.  Singularly  enough,  she  would 
have  been  a  monarchist,  but  on  the  condition  that 
the  monarch  should  not  be  her  husband,  and  one 
of  her  greatest  fears  was  that  of  seeing  Bonaparte 
become  emperor  or  king.  The  Tuileries,  which  were 
yet  full  of  memories  of  the  20th  of  June,  the  10th 
of  August,  and  of  the  Convention,  seemed  to  her  a 
fatal  residence,  and  she  felt  that  if  she  were  to  live 
there,  she  should  be  assuming  a  position  that  did  not 
belong  to  her,  that  she  would  be  like  a  servant  tak- 
ing possession  of  the  master's  drawing-room.  She 
said  to  herself  that  those  who  climb  too  high  are 
exposed  to  giddiness,  and  she  feared  lofty  mountain- 
tops  because  of  the  precipices  beneath  them.  She 
had  presentiments  and  scruples  which  made  her 
regret  leaving  first  her  little  house  in  the  rue  de  la 
Victoire,  and  then  the  Luxembourg.  But  Bonaparte 
did  not  trouble  himself  about  Josephine's  uneasiness; 
he  was  driven  by  a  secret  impulse,  by  a  mysterious 
and  irresistible  force,  to  pursue  his  onward  course 
swiftly  and  victoriously.  Whatever  height  of  for- 
tune he  reaehed,  it  never  occurred  to  him  to  say, 
This  is  enough.  The  Tuileries  will  not  satisfy  him. 
One  day  he  will  want  Potsdam,  the  next  the  Escu- 
rial;  one  day  Sehoenbrunn,  and  another  the  Kremlin. 


II. 


THE   FORMAL   ENTRANCE   INTO   THE   TUILERIES. 

ON  the  30th  Pluviose,  year  VIII.  (February  19, 
1800),  Bonaparte,  when  he  woke  up  in  the 
Luxembourg,  said  to  his  secretary,  "  Well,  Bourrienne, 
here's  the  day  when  we  are  going  to  sleep  at  the  Tui- 
leries.  You  are  very  lucky,  for  you  haven't  got  to 
make  a  show  of  yourself ;  you  will  go  your  own  way. 
As  for  me,  I  have  got  to  go  in  a  procession.  It's  a 
great  bore ;  but  we  must  make  a  show  and  impress 
the  people.  The  Directory  was  too  simple,  and  so 
was  not  respected.  Simplicity  is  all  very  well  in  the 
army;  but  in  a  large  city,  in  a  palace,  the  head  of 
the  government  must  attract  all  eyes  in  every  pos- 
sible way." 

The  Tuileries  of  Catherine  of  Medicis,  of  Louis 
XIV.,  of  Louis  XV.,  of  Louis  XVI..  of  the  Conven- 
tion, is  now  about  to  become  the  Tuileries  of  the 
First  Consul.  His  removal  to  this  palace  was  to 
show  himself  as  master;  for  there  is  a  certain  relation 
between  men  and  public  buildings.  Bonaparte  knew 
from  his  instinct  of  power  what  an  influence  a  nam.' 
has  on  the  imagination  of  the  masses.      Does  not  th 


34  THE    WIFE   OF   THE  FIRST   CONSUL. 

man  who  installs  himself  in  the  abode  of  kings  substi- 
tute himself  for  them  ?  From  the  moment  when  the 
First  Consul  occupies  a  palace,  he  will  necessarily 
have  a  court  and  courtiers.  Etiquette  will  grow  up 
of  itself.  The  friends  of  childhood  and  his  college 
comrades  will  not  dare  to  be  too  intimate  with  the 
head  of  the  state.  Republican  familiarity  will  dis- 
appear before  the  monarchical  spirit.  The  people 
who  are  accustomed  to  live  on  the  favors  of  princes 
will  feel  themselves  attracted  to  the  Tuileries,  as  if 
Bonaparte  were  a  Bourbon.  The  manners,  the  ideas, 
the  language  of  royalty,  will  gradually  reappear. 

At  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  all  Paris  was  astir ; 
every  one  wanted  to  see  the  procession  starting  from 
the  Luxembourg  for  the  Tuileries.  Madame  Bona- 
parte had  already  gone  there;  since  she  possessed 
no  claims  to  royal  honors,  she  had  come  modestly 
with  her  daughter  Hortense  and  with  her  sister- 
in-law,  Madame  Murat,  and  the  three  stationed  them- 
selves, not  on  the  balcony  of  the  Pavilion  of  the 
Clock,  which  would  have  been  too  formal,  but  at 
the  windows  of  the  apartment  of  Consul  Lebrun,  in 
the  Pavilion  of  Flora.  Then  the  procession  arrived 
with  the  regiments  commanded  by  Lannes,  Murat, 
and  Bessieres.  The  three  Consuls  were  in  a  carriage 
drawn  by  six  white  horses  presented  to  General 
Bonaparte  by  the  Emperor  of  Germany  after  the 
peace  of  Campo  Formio.  The  First  Consul  was  on 
the  back  seat,  with  Cambace'rds  at  his  left  and  Le- 
brun opposite.     Then  followed  the  Council  of  State 


ENTRANCE   INTO    THE    Tl'ILEJUES. 


and  the  senators,  most  of  them  in  cabs  with  the 
numbers  hidden  by  pieces  of  paper.  The  impressive 
thing  in  the  procession  was  the  fineness  of  the  troops, 
— -three  thousand  picked  soldiers,  all  veterans.  The 
whole  Carrousel  was  filled  by  a  dense  crowd  who 
shouted  wildly,  "  Long  live  the  First  Consul ;  long 
live  Bonaparte ! "  Everywhere  on  the  way  people 
were  saying,  "  How  young  he  is  !  What  a  fine  head ! 
What  a  fine  face  !  The  Emperor  of  Germany  gave 
him  those  white  horses,  and  he  gave  him  his  sabre 
too.  Do  you  see  Josephine  ?  She  has  brought  him 
good  luck." 

Patriotic  joy  shone  on  every  face.  The  people, 
the  workmen,  the  poorer  classes,  were  contented.  All 
the  social  classes,  indeed,  were  united  in  one  com- 
mon thought.  Windows  were  bought  at  high  prices 
from  which  to  view  this  grand  spectacle,  this  review 
which  would  become  a  matter  of  history.  What 
pretty  women !  what  rich  dresses !  Napoleon  was 
not  sincere  when  he  told  Bourrienne  in  the  morning 
that  he  did  not  care  for  this  pomp  and  show.  His 
entrance  into  the  Tuileries  would  be  one  of  the  finest 
days  of  his  life,  full  as  it  was  of  triumphs.  There 
was  a  keen  joy  in  hearing  the  shouts  of  the  populace 
mingling  with  those  of  the  troops,  and  real  intoxica- 
tion in  all  this  military  display,  in  the  blare  of  the 
trumpets,  and  the  roar  of  the  drums.  Starting  from 
notliing,  to  be  everything,  what  a  dream  !  and  to  get 
to  the  topmost  pinnacle  at  thirty  years  of  age,  what 
a  wonder  it  is  ! 


36  THE   WIFE  OF   THE   FIliST  (JONSUL. 

The  Consular  Guard  formed  a  line  on  both  sides  from 
the  entrance  into  the  Carrousel  to  the  door  of  the  Tui- 
leries.  There  was  a  certain  contrast  between  this  imi- 
tation of  royalty  and  the  inscription  which  still  stood 
there,  on  the  guard-house  to  the  right  of  the  middle 
grating:  "August  10,  1792,  Royalty  was  abolished 
in  France,  never  to  reappear."  As  they  looked  at 
this  inscription,  many  of  the  soldiers  broke  out  into 
denunciation  of  royalty,  with  no  notion  that  at  this 
moment  they  were  bringing  it  back.  When  they 
had  got  into  the  Tuileries,  the  troops  drew  up  in 
order  of  battle.  The  Consuls'  carriage  passed  the 
gateway  and  stopped.  Bonaparte  got  out  quickly  and 
vaulted  on  the  horse  which  was  brought  up  for  him, 
while  Cambacdres  and  Lebrun  made  their  way  slowly 
to  the  reception  rooms. 

He  was  now  in  his  element,  and  had  become  really 
himself  in  the  presence  of  the  troops,  of  the  men  to 
whom  he  owed  everything.  For  if  he  had  entered 
the  Tuileries,  it  was  the  soldiers  who  had  led  him 
there;  and  lie  acknowledged  himself  their  debtor, 
for  it  was  through  them  that  he  had  become  all- 
powerful.  Hence  he  was  glad  to  find  himself  among 
his  companions  in  arms,  those  brave  men  whose  sun- 
burnt faces  recalled  many  victories.  He  was  happy 
to  see  the  old  bullet-riddled  flags,  black  with  powder, 
and  in  rags,  which  were  real  treasures,  holy  talis- 
mans. Was  there  one;  of  the  three  thousand  soldiers 
there  who  would  not  have  given  his  life  to  defend 
these  glorious  insignia'.''     The  marching  past  began. 


ENTRANCE   INTO    Till-:    TLILKHIKS.  37 


and  Bonaparte  took  his  place  before  the  Pavilion 
of  the  Clock,  with  Murat  at  his  right  and  Lannes 
at  his  left.  The  43d  half-brigade  advanced,  and  the 
color-bearer  saluted  the  First  Consul  with  the  flag 
which  was  a  mere  staff  with  a  few  shreds  of  bunting 
full  of  bullet-holes.  Bonaparte  regarded  it  with  re- 
spect and  emotion,  taking  off  his  hat  and  returning 
the  salute.  The  flags  of  the  30th  and  96th  were  in 
the  same  state.  When  they  passed,  Bonaparte  saluted 
them  too,  and  his  emotion  appeared  to  increase.  All 
this  time  his  mother  was  weeping  with  joy. 

When  the  review  was  over,  the  First  Consul  de- 
scended from  his  horse,  entered  the  Pavilion  of  the 
Clock,  and  ascended  briskly  the  staircase  of  the 
king's  palace.  The  next  day  there  was  to  be  read 
in  the  Moniteur :  "30  Pluviose,  Year  VIII.  The 
Government  installed  itself  in  its  Palace  to-day ;  the 
Councillors  and  Secretaries  of  State,  the  Secretary 
General,  the  Ministers  and  the  Consuls,  all  in  full 
dress,  drove  to  the  Tuileries,  preceded  by  a  band, 
and  accompanied  by  the  staff  of  the  17th  Division. 
The  First  Consul,  alighting  from  his  carriage, 
nn mnted  his  horse,  and  passed  by  the  lines  of  the 
different  bodies  of  troops  drawn  up  in  the  courtyard. 
Later,  in  one  of  the  halls  of  the  Palaee,  the  Minister 
of  the  Interior  presented  to  the  Consuls  the  members 
of  the  governing  boards  of  Paris.  This  ceremony 
was  accomplished  with  perfect  order.  The  public 
testified  its  satisfaction  by  warm  applause  :  hope  and 
joy  shone  on  every  face.'' 


38  THE    WIFE   OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

Bonaparte  then  installed  himself  in  the  chamber  of 
Louis  XIV.,  the  Sunlike  King;  Josephine  had  the 
room  of  Marie  Antoinette.  Who,  a  few  years  ear- 
lier, could  have  foreseen  so  strange  a  thing  ?  When 
the  future  conqueror  of  Areola,  obscure  in,  lost  in 
the  crowd,  looked  in  anger  at  the  invading  rabble 
of  the  20th  of  June  and  the  10th  of  August,  could 
he  have  thought  that  he  would  so  soon  take  the  place 
at  the  Tuileries  of  the  sovereign  whose  humiliations 
so  moved  him  ? 

The  next  morning,  on  entering  Bonaparte's  room, 
Bourrienne  said  to  him:  "Well,  general,  here  you 
are  at  last,  without  difficulty,  with  the  applause  of 
the  people.  Do  you  remember  what  you  said  to  me 
two  years  ago  in  the  rue  Sainte  Anne  ?  '  I  could 
make  myself  king,  but  it's  not  yet  time.''  "Yes, 
that  is  true ;  but  do  you  know  we  have  done  a  good 
many  things  since  then?  On  the  whole,  I  am  per- 
fectly satisfied ;  yesterday  went  off  very  well.  Do 
you  think  that  all  those  people  who  came  to  toady 
me  are  sincere  ?  Of  course  not ;  but  the  joy  of  the 
people  was  genuine.  The  people  are  right.  And 
then,  you  can  consult  the  real  thermometer  of  public 
opinion.  Look  at  the  stocks.  So  I  can  let  the  Jaco- 
bins grumble ;  but  they  mustn't  grumble  too  loud." 

Then  the  First  Consul  dressed  and  went  to  stroll 
in  the  Gallery  of  Diana.  He  looked  at  the  busts 
which  had  been  placed  there  by  his  orders,  —  Demos- 
thenes, Alexander,  Hannibal,  Scipio,  Brutus,  Cicero, 
Cato,  Caesar,  Gustavus  Adolphus,  Turenne,  Conde*, 


ENTRANCE  INTO   THE   TUILERIES.  39 

Duguay-Trouin,  Marlborough,  Prince  Eugene,  Mar- 
shal Saxe,  Washington,  Frederick  the  Great,  Mira- 
beau,  and  four  generals  of  the  Republic  who  had  been 
killed  in  battle,  Dugommier,  Dampierre,  Marceau, 
and  Joubert,  Then  he  passed  through  the  halls, 
which  were  full  of  memories  of  the  youth  of  Louis 
XIV.,  of  the  childhood  of  Louis  XV.,  of  the  agonies 
of  the  martyred  king  and  queen,  of  the  bloody  rule 
of  Robespierre.  In  the  Pavilion  of  Flora  is  the 
room  where  the  terrible  Committee  of  Public  Safety 
used  to  sit.  At  the  other  end  of  the  Gallery  of 
Diana  is  the  Council  Hall  of  the  Ministry,  where 
were  held  all  the  important  meetings  during  the 
minority  of  Louis  XV.,  and  in  the  last  hours  of  the 
monarchy.  There  is  the  bed-chamber,  a  showy  room, 
where  the  Sunlike  King  used  to  appear  in  such 
majesty,  and  where  the  Imperial  throne  was  soon 
to  be  raised.  It  was  in  the  next  room  that,  on 
the  20th  of  June,  the  rioters  put  the  red  cap  on  the 
head  of  Louis  XVI.  After  that  is  the  large  room, 
which  under  the  king  used  to  be  called  the  Hall  of 
the  Hundred  Swiss,  where,  at  the  time  of  the  Con- 
vention, Robespierre  appeared  in  triumph  at  the  fes- 
tival of  the  Supreme  Being.  In  the  future  this  is 
to  be  the  Hall  of  the  Marshals.  As  he  passed  these 
rooms,  Bonaparte,  who  was  deeply  impressed,  said  to 
Bourrienne :  "  Getting  into  the  Tuileries  isn't  every- 
thing :  the  thing  is  to  stay  here.  Who  is  there  who 
hasn't  lived  in  the  palace  ?  Thieves,  and  members 
of  the  National  Convention.     Do  vou  see  ?     There's 


40  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

your  brother's  house.  It's  from  there  that  I  saw 
them  besiege  the  Tuileries,  and  carry  the  good  Louis 
XVI.  away.  But  don't  be  uneasy.  Let  them  try  it." 
The  same  day  Bonaparte  had  the  Liberty  Trees, 
which  had  been  planted  in  the  courtyard  of  the 
Tuileries,  cut  down.  Liberty  was  itself  disappear- 
ing, and  nothing  really  takes  its  place,  not  even 
glory. 


III. 


THE   TUILERIES   AT   THE   BEGINNING   OF   THE   CON- 
SULATE. 

THE  First  Consul  installed  himself  at  the  Tuile- 
ries,  on  the  first  floor  in  that  part  which,  in  the 
time  of  Louis  XIV.,  had  been  called  His  Majesty's 
winter  apartment.  The  windows  looked  upon  the 
garden.  The  working-room  was  of  moderate  size 
and  lit  by  but  one  window.  This  room,  by  the  side 
of  which  there  was  a  closet  full  of  maps,  opened  into 
a  large  bedroom,  containing  a  gorgeous  bed,  which 
was  not  that  of  Louis  XVI.  "I  must  not  forget  to 
say,"  Bourrienne  tells  us,  "that  the  First  Consul 
slept  there  very  seldom;  for  lie  troubled  himself  very 
little  about  his  quarters,  and  concerned  himself  about 
external  luxury  only  out  of  calculation,  regarding  it 
as  a  means  of  impressing  people.  To  speak  plainly, 
Bonaparte,  at  the  Luxembourg,  at  Malmaison,  and 
during  the  first  part  of  his  stay  at  the  Tuilcrics,  occu- 
pied the  same  room  with  his  wife/'  Every  evening 
he  went  down  a  little  staircase  to  Josephine's  apart- 
ment below,  on  the  ground  floor.  She  had  taken 
the  apartment  of   Marie  Antoinette,  and   had   fitted 

•11 


42  THE   WIFE  OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

it  up  very  simply.  By  the  side  of  her  dressing-room 
were  the  rooms  of  her  daughter  Hortense,  consisting 
of  a  bed-chamber  and  a  little  sitting-room. 

As  yet  there  was  no  thought  of  appointing  cham- 
berlains, equerries,  and  ladies-in-waiting.  Public 
opinion  was  not  prepared  for  them,  and  nothing  more 
was  demanded  than  could  be  performed  by  State- 
counsellor  Be"nezech,  who  was  a  sort  of  master  of 
ceremonies  in  charge  of  the  domestic  administration 
of  the  palace,  and  in  fact  really  managed  the  court. 
On  the  occasion  of  the  First  Consul's  solemn  entry 
into  the  Tuileries,  Josephine  had  modestly  stationed 
herself  at  a  window  of  the  Pavilion  of  Flora,  but 
a  few  days  later,  the  2d  Ventose,  when  her  husband 
was  receiving  the  ambassadors  of  Spain  and  Rome, 
the  ministers  of  Prussia,  Denmark,  Sweden,  Baden, 
and  Hesse-Cassel,  and  the  ambassadors  of  the  Cisal- 
pine, Batavian,  Swiss,  and  Ligurian  Republics,  she 
had  all  the  diplomats  presented  to  her,  and  held  a 
levee  very  much  like  a  queen.  It  was  Be*nezech 
who  made  the  presentations. 

This  return  to  the  old  ways  did  not  fail  to  dis- 
please those  who  still  nourished  republican  senti- 
ments. Thibaudeau,  the  author  of  "  Memoirs  on 
the  Consulate,"  says  about  this :  "  So  high  was  the 
respect  for  the  civil  magistracies,  and  so  strong  the 
hostility  to  court  etiquette,  that  the  Counsellors  of 
State  were  scandalized  at  seeing  a  former  Minister 
of  the  Interior,  one  of  their  colleagues,  with  an 
usher's  rod  in  his  hand,  playing  the  part  of  master 


THE  TV IL  ERIE'S.  43 


of  ceremonies,  and  even  of  head  butler  of  the  First 
Consul.  There  were  as  yet  no  titled  servants,  called 
chamberlains ;  the  aides-de-camp  took  charge  of  what 
would  have  been  their  duties,  but  that  had  too  much 
the  air  of  the  camp.  It  was  clear  that  the  Tuileries 
required  a  regular  court  and  fixed  etiquette,  just  as 
a  temple  requires  priests  and  service.  A  court  in 
process  of  formation  was  a  new  sight  for  most  of  the 
spectators  as  well  as  for  the  courtiers  themselves." 

At  first  it  was  not  very  easy  to  make  up  the  society 
of  the  Tuileries.  The  "  Memorial  of  Saint  Helena  " 
describes  the  First  Consul's  difficulties.  Since  he 
had  spent  the  last  few  years  in  the  army,  he  knew 
very  few  people,  and  he  was  continually  obliged  to 
consult  Consul  Lebrun  about  men  and  things.  The 
Republicans,  and  especially  the  generals,  would  have 
been  horrified  if  he  had  received  people  who  belonged 
to  the  old  regime,  royalists,  Emigre's.  All  these  did 
not  begin  at  once  to  mount  the  grand  staircase  of 
the  Tuileries,  familiar  as  they  grew  with  it  later. 
Under  the  pretence  of  discriminating  between  the 
wife  and  the  husband,  they  began  by  appearing  only 
on  the  ground  floor,  in  Josephine's  apartments,  visit- 
ing her  in  the  morning.  The  bankers  and  business 
men  who  set  the  tone  under  the  Directory,  were 
anxious  to  gather  about  Bonaparte ;  but  the  First 
Consul,  who  disliked  doubtful  characters,  repelled 
their  advances  with  some  severity.  Their  wives  were 
pretty,  amiable,  and  charming,  but  could  not  fasci- 
nate him.  and  he   told  Josephine  not  to  admit  them 


44  THE    WIFE  OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

to  the  Tuileries.  It  was  he  who  said  in  regard  to 
the  contractors  and  speculators  who  were  very  influ- 
ential at  the  Luxembourg  in  the  time  of  Barras : 
"  One  of  the  ways  in  which  I  most  furthered  the 
reaction  of  society  towards  the  condition  and  habits 
of  the  past  was  by  driving  all  this  false  brilliancy 
back  into  the  crowd;  I  never  wanted  to  raise  one 
of  these  men  to  honor,  for  of  all  forms  of  aristocracy 
that  seemed  to  me  the  worst." 

Since  the  nobility  and  the  bankers  were  thus  ex- 
cluded, the  First  Consul  could  at  first  have  no  other 
society  than  that  of  officials,  civil  and  military,  and 
their  wives.  "  At  first,"  he  says  in  his  "  Memorial 
of  Saint  Helena,"  "  everything  for  a  while  was  like 
a  magic-lantern,  very  mixed  and  forever  changing. 
The  combination  soon  acquired  a  color,  a  tone  of  its 
own,  and  was  by  no  means  without  its  good  side.  At 
Moscow,  the  Viceroy  (Prince  Eugene)  found  some 
letters  of  the  Princess  Dolgorouki,  who  had  been 
in  Paris  at  that  time.  She  spoke  very  well  of  the 
Tuileries ;  she  said  it  was  not  exactly  a  court,  but 
that  on  the  other  hand  it  was  not  a  camp  ;  that  the 
etiquette  and  the  ways  were  quite  new ;  that  the  First 
Consul  did  not  carry  his  hat  under  his  arm,  or  wear 
a  rapier,  to  be  sure,  but  that  he  was  not  a  rough 
soldier."  The  ladies  who  attended  these  receptions 
were,  for  the  most  part,  young,  timid,  and  without 
experience  of  the  world;  but  Madame  Bonaparte  set 
them  at  their  ease  by  her  amiable  grace  and  kind- 
ness, and  the  young  women  who  at  first  were  intimi- 


THE   T CILERIES.  45 


dated  b}-  the  growing  etiquette  of  a  palace,  and 
especially  by  the  rank  and  glory  of  the  First  Consul, 
gradually  acquired  familiarity  with  the  customs  of 
good  society,  and  were  wise  enough  to  take  Josephine 
for  a  model.  At  that  time  Madame  Bonaparte  used 
to  give  breakfasts  from  which  men  were  rigorously 
excluded. 

"  In  my  opinion,"  said  the  Duchess  of  Abrant£s, 
4>  it  was  a  delightful  custom,  that  of  inviting  to  such 
entertainments  women  who  were  still  too  timid  to  be 
agreeable  in  a  drawing-room  in  the  presence  of  men 
so  much  their  superiors  as  to  alarm  them.  By  talk- 
ing at  these  informal  breakfasts  about  the  fashions, 
the  new  plays,  the  little  commonplaces  of  society,  the 
young  women  acquired  courage,  and  ceased  to  be 
mere  wallflowers  in  the  drawing-room  of  the  First 
Consul,  when  he  sought  distraction  there.  Madame 
Bonaparte  did  the  honors  of  the  breakfast  with 
charming  grace.  Generally  there  were  about  half-a- 
dozen  of  us,  and  all,  with  the  exception  of  our  hostess, 
of  about  the  same  age." 

Let  us  once  more  consult  the  Duchess  of  Abrantes, 
whose  graceful,  womanly  Memoirs,  and  "  History  of 
the  Paris  Drawing-rooms,"  with  its  curious  and 
amusing  details,  give  a  most  vivid  and  attractive 
picture  of  this  period.  In  the  chapter  called 
"Madame  Bonaparte's  Drawing-room,"  she  describes 
all  the  women  who  were  intimately  allied  with  Jo- 
sephine in  1800  and  1801.  There  was  Madame  de 
La  Rochefoucauld,  ua  little   hunchback,  a  verv  kind 


46  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

woman,  although  witty,"  who  was  related  to  the 
family  of  Beauharnais ;  then  Madame  de  La  Valette, 
"sweet,  good,  always  pretty,  in  spite  of  the  small- 
pox, and  of  the  many  who  found  her  too  handsome 
notwithstanding  her  misfortune."  And  Madame  de 
Lameth,  "  round  as  a  ball  and  bearded,  —  two  unat- 
tractive things  in  a  woman,  but  good  and  witty,  —  two 
very  attractive  qualities";  then  Madame  de  Lauriston, 
"  kind  to  every  one  and  generally  popular  " ;  Madame 
de  Re'musat,  "  a  superior  woman  and  very  charming 
to  those  who  understood  her  " ;  Madame  de  Talhonet, 
"  who  remembered  too  well  that  she  had  been  pretty, 
and  forgot  that  she  was  so  no  longer  "  ;  and  Madame 
d'Harville,  "systematically  impolite,  and  only  polite 
by  accident." 

The  intimate  friends  of  Madame  Bonaparte  used 
to  meet  in  the  drawing-room  on  the  ground  floor, 
and  the  official  visitors  used  to  appear  on  the  first 
flight,  in  the  grand  reception  rooms.  But  there 
were  many  different  types,  curious  combinations,  and 
striking  contrasts  even  in  the  society  downstairs. 
All  opinions  met  there.  An  e"migre*  just  a  few  days 
returned  would  sit  by  the  side  of  a  former  member 
of  the  Convention,  who  a  few  years  earlier  had  con- 
demned him  to  death ;  a  Republican  general  would 
elbow  a  member  of  the  Vendean  army ;  but,  by  her 
exquisite  tact,  Josephine  was  able  to  enforce,  if  not 
peace,  at  least  a  truce  between  men  whose  antece- 
dents seemed  to  make  them  irreconcilable  enemies, 
and  from  the  beginning  of  the  Consulate  she  worked 


THE   TUILERIES.  47 

more  energetically  than  any  one  to  bring  about  the 
reconciliation  and  fusion  which  her  husband  desired. 

The  great  receptions  of  the  first  floor  were  called 
mobs  by  those  who  had  admission  to  the  ground  floor. 
Every  decade,  or  week  of  ten  days,  there  was  served, 
in  the  Gallery  of  Diana,  a  dinner  of  two  hundred 
plates.  The  senators  and  the  generals  were  received 
on  the  second  day  of  the  decade  ;  the  members  of  the 
Legislature,  on  the  fourth  day ;  the  Tribunes  and  the 
members  of  the  Court  of  Appeal,  on  the  sixth  day. 

The  question  of  a  consulate  for  life,  or  of  making 
the  position  hereditary,  had  not  yet  arisen.  The 
First  Consul,  who  was  not  called  the  President  of  the 
Republic,  was,  according  to  the  constitution,  merely 
a  temporary  magistrate,  whose  powers  were  limited 
to  a  period  of  ten  years,  and  who  shared  the  govern- 
ment with  two  colleagues,  called,  like  him,  consuls. 
But  if  we  examine  the  state  of  affairs,  what  is 
Cambaceres,  what  is  Lebrun,  in  comparison  with  the 
sun  of  which  they  are  the  satellites  ?  In  all  the 
receptions  and  important  functions  Bonaparte  is  the 
only  one  who  is  looked  at ;  everywhere  and  always, 
as  the  poet  said  later.  Any  one  who  wishes  to  get 
an  idea  of  this  man's  ascendancy  has  only  to  consider 
what  took  nlaee  every  fifth  day  at  noon  in  the  court- 
yard. It  was  the  favorite  spectacle  of  the  Parisians, 
and  the  great  attraction  for  the  provincials  and  for- 
eigners who  happened  to  be  in  Paris.  In  France 
nothing  produces  so  strong  an  impression  as  the  sight 
of  the  warriors  who  Hatter  its  national  pride  and  its 


4:8  THE    WIFE  OF   THE  FITcST  CONSUL. 

warlike  instincts.  At  the  sight  of  such  soldiers  the 
whole  people  grew  enthusiastic,  and  felt  themselves 
capable  of  unheard-of  prodigies.  It  seemed  as  if  they 
could  defy  all  Europe,  and  they  were  tempted  to  cry 
out,  like  their  ancestors,  the  Gauls,  "  There  is  only 
one  thing  I  fear :  that  the  heavens  will  fall."  They 
said  to  themselves,  "  We  are  a  great  nation." 

All  the  regiments  came  in  turn  to  Paris  to  take 
part  in  the  reviews  on  every  fifth  day  of  the  decade 
before  the  First  Consul.  They  dazzled  the  capital, 
and  the  capital  dazzled  them.  Parisians  and  soldiers 
got  on  very  well  together,  and  after  the  review  re- 
tained very  pleasant  memories  of  each  other.  Thi- 
baudeau  shows  us  Bonaparte,  one  moment  on  foot, 
the  next  on  horseback,  going  through  the  ranks  to 
make  acquaintance  with  the  officers  and  soldiers,  and 
to  let  them  learn  to  know  him,  interesting  himself  in 
the  pettiest  details  of  their  equipment,  their  arma- 
ment, and  drill,  busying  himself  indefatigably  with 
everything  that  concerned  the  welfare  of  his  troops, 
welcoming  his  former  companions  in  Italy,  and  ad- 
dressing them  with  some  flattering  speech  that  drove 
them  wild  with  enthusiasm.  "  It  was  interesting  to 
see,"  says  Madame  de  Re*musat,  "  how  well  he  under- 
stood how  to  talk  with  the  soldiers,  how  he  would 
ask  one  soldier  after  another  about  his  campaigns  or 
his  wounds.  ...  I  have  heard  Madame  Bonaparte 
say  that  he  was  accustomed  to  study  every  evening, 
when  he  was  going  to  bed,  the  army  lists.  He  would 
sleep  on  the  names  of  the  corps,  and  on  those  of  some 


THE    TVILEIilES.  49 


of  the  men  who  composed  the  corps,  retaining  them 
in  a  corner  of  his  memory;  and  in  this  way  he  had 
the  wonderful  gift  of  recognizing  the  soldiers  and  of 
giving  them  the  pleasure  of  being  picked  out  by  their 
commander.  In  talking  with  the  men  he  assumed 
a  tone  of  good-fellowship  which  delighted  them ;  he 
addressed  each  one  with  thou,  and  recalled  the  feats 
of  arms  they  had  performed  together." 

This  was  the  time  when,  preserving  some  of  the 
republican  familiarity,  he  wrote  to  the  non-commis- 
sioned officer,  Sergeant  Ldon  Aune  of  the  Grenadiers, 
the  following  letter:  "I  have  received  your  letter, 
my  dear  comrade  ;  you  don't  need  to  tell  me  what 
you  have  done  ;  I  know  very  well  you  are  one  of 
the  bravest  grenadiers  in  the  army  since  the  death  of 
Benezeth.  You  received  one  of  the  hundred  sabres 
of  honor  which  I  had  distributed.  All  the  soldiers 
of  your  corps  agreed  that  you  were  the  one  who  de- 
served it  most.  I  am  very  anxious  to  see  you  again. 
The  Minister  of  War  sends  you  an  order  to  come  to 
Paris."  Never,  except  perhaps  among  the  members 
of  Ctesar's  legions,  has  there  been  seen  such  a  fanat- 
ical love  of  military  life.  Second  lieutenants  would 
not  have  given  up  their  epaulettes  for  millions. 
Every  officer,  every  soldier,  was  proud  of  his  uni- 
form, of  his  regiment,  of  his  colors.  Xo  one  has 
ever  understood  better  than  Bonaparte  how  to  impress 
the  imagination  of  the  soldier.  He  controlled  him 
with  a  word,  with  a  glance,  and  appeared  to  him  like 
a  supernatural   being,  like  a  demi-god.      Even  after 


50  THE    WIFE   OF   THE  FIEST  CONSUL. 

his  defeats  he  preserved  his  authority ;  what  must  it 
have  been  when  his  comrades  who  had  always  seen 
him  victorious  thought  him  always  invincible?  Each 
one  of  the  fifth  day  reviews  was  a  new  apotheosis  for 
him.  "  If  it  happened  to  rain,  or  if  the  day  was 
cloudy,"  says  Thibaudeau,  an  eye-witness,  "  it  often 
happened  that  at  the  moment  Bonaparte  appeared 
the  rain  stopped,  the  clouds  broke,  and  the  sun  shone 
out.  The  multitude,  always  greedy  of  miracles,  and 
the  courtiers,  always  profuse  in  flattery,  used  to  cry 
out,  '  The  First  Consul  controls  the  elements  ! '  " 

The  wife  of  General  Junot,  afterwards  the  Duchess 
of  Abrant&s,  describes  one  of  these  reviews  which 
greatly  delighted  her.  A  little  before  noon,  Jose- 
phine, her  daughter,  Hortense  de  Beauharnais,  her 
sisters-in-law,  a  number  of  pretty  women,  of  officials, 
of  distinguished  strangers,  appeared  at  the  palace 
windows.  After  the  parade,  sixteen  magnificent 
horses,  the  gift  of  the  King  of  Spain,  were  to  be 
presented  to  the  First  Consul.  The  officers  walked 
up  and  down  among  the  soldiers,  speaking  to  them 
from  time  to  time,  in  a  low  voice,  to  correct  a  faulty 
position  or  some  trifle  in  their  dress.  Every  one  was 
most  zealous,  for  the  First  Consul  must  be  satisfied. 
The  trumpets  sounded,  the  drums  beat,  and  Bona- 
parte appeared  on  his  white  horse,  Ddsire".  His  sol- 
diers gazed  at  him  with  an  expression  which  seemed 
to  say,  "  Yes,  we  will  die  that  France  may  be  great, 
and  its  name  the  first  in  the  world.  Whither  shall 
we  go?     AVe  are  ready."     He  stopped  beneath  the 


THE    TUILEIHES.  ">1 


window  at  which  Madame  Junot  happened  to  be  with 
some  ladies,  and  turning  to  a  young  drummer  who 
seemed  to  be  about  sixteen  or  seventeen  years  old,  he 
said,  "  So,  my  boy,  it  was  you  who  beat  the  charge  at 
Zurich  with  a  bullet  through  your  right  arm?"  The 
little  drummer  blushed,  and  answered,  "  Yes,  Gen- 
eral." "  And  it's  you,  too,  who  showed  great  pres- 
ence of  mind  at  Weser?"  The  boy  blushed  more 
deeply,  and  answered  in  a  lower  voice,  "Yes,  Gen- 
eral." "  Well,  I  ought  to  pay  the  country's  debt. 
You  shall  receive,  not  a  drumstick  of  honor,  but  a 
sabre  of  honor.  I  appoint  you  a  non-commissioned 
officer  in  the  Consular  Guard.  Go  on  as  well  as  you 
have  begun,  and  I  shall  take  care  of  you."  Then 
the  First  Consul,  with  a  pleasant  smile,  touched  his 
hat  to  the  ladies,  who  had  been  listening  to  him.  The 
little  drummer  was  as  pale  as  death  with  emotion, 
but  his  face  is  eloquent.  He  may  have  grown  pale 
before  Bonaparte,  but  he  would  not  turn  pale  before 
the  enemy. 


IV. 


PARISIAN  SOCIETY  IN   THE  YEAR  VIII. 

PARIS,  in  1800,  knew  only  two  passions,  —  glory 
and  pleasure.  The  once  magic  word,  liberty, 
was  now  scarcely  ever  on  men's  lips,  except  as  a 
matter  of  habit.  The  great  city,  always  fickle  in 
its  tastes  and  emotions,  was  now  thoroughly  weary 
of  politics,  of  parliamentary  disputes,  of  clubs,  news- 
papers, and  outbreaks,  and  had  become  totally  indif- 
ferent to  all  these  things  which  a  short  time  previous 
used  to  arouse  it  to  fury.  It  scarcely  remembered 
that  it  had  been  torn  by  a  revolution.  Edgar  Quinet 
has  described  most  admirably  the  state  of  feeling  at 
the  beginning  of  the  Consulate,  and  he  is  borne  out 
by  all  the  contemporary  authorities.  "  When  men," 
he  says,  "  after  a  heroic  effort,  are  tired  of  the  duties 
of  freedom,  and  suddenly  abandon  the  control  of 
themselves,  they  experience  a  singular  sensation  of 
relief.  There  are  many  instances  of  this  in  anti- 
quity. After  centuries  of  civil  war,  the  Romans  felt 
a  profound  peace,  a  happy  satisfaction,  in  laying  their 
conscience  in  the  hands  of  a  master.  The  French 
felt  something  of  the  sort  after  the  events  of  the 
52 


PA  U I  SI AS    SOCIETY    IS    THE    VEAL'    VIII.         53 

18th  Bruinaire,  which  relieved  them  of  the  care  of 
their  own  destinies.  Doubtless  tins  period  is,  except 
for  the  lack  of  dignity,  one  of  the  happiest  in  the 
memory  of  man."  People  began  to  say  that,  after 
all,  the  guillotine  was  not  ornamental  in  a  public- 
square,  and  that  a  well-dressed,  well-drilled  regiment 
was  far  superior  to  a  rabble  of  men  with  pikes ;  that, 
as  its  name  implies,  the  Reign  of  Terror  is  the  most 
disagreeable  and  alarming  of  systems  of  government ; 
that  Paris  will  never  be  a  really  austere  city ;  that  a 
good  dinner  is  better  than  the  black  broth  of  Sparta ; 
that  a  pretty  woman  who  chats  is  far  preferable  to 
a  speech-making  tribune ;  people  began  to  see  some 
merit  in  the  good  old  times  ;  they  acknowledged  that 
social  entertainments,  life  in  the  drawing-room,  in 
the  castles,  that  courtesy,  gallantry,  French  gayety, 
songs,  theatres,  balls,  and  all  the  amusements  which 
for  centuries  had  been  the  joy  and  pride  of  the  great 
capital  were,  after  all,  really  indispensable.  The  re- 
action was  as  marked  as  the  Revolution  had  been ; 
and  it  was  just  because  Madame  Bonaparte  was  a 
woman  of  the  old  regime  that  she  so  well  pleased 
Parisian  society,  which  asked  nothing  better  than  to 
go  back  to  the  customs  and  pleasures  of  the  past. 

The  official  world  set  the  fashion  of  festivity,  and 
the  winter  was  tolerably  gay.  Especially  successful 
were  the  balls  of  Lucien  Bonaparte,  who  occupied 
the  sumptuous  Brissac  mansion,  as  Minister  of  the 
Interior.  He  was  then  in  love  with  the  fashionable 
beauty,  Madame  Re"camier,  the  most  charming  woman 


54  THE    WIFE   OF  THE  FIRST   CONSUL. 

in  Paris.  Since  her  first  name  was  Juliette,  he  ex- 
pressed his  devotion  under  the  pseudonym  of  Romeo : 
"  Romeo  writes  to  you,  Juliette  ;  if  you  should  refuse 
to  read  him,  you  would  be  more  cruel  than  our  rela- 
tives, who  have  just  become  reconciled.  ...  O  Juli- 
ette !  life  without  love  is  only  a  long  sleep.  The  love- 
liest of  women  ought  to  be  tender-hearted.  Happy 
the  man  who  shall  become  the  friend  of  your  heart ! " 
It  seems  that  Madame  Re*camier  did  not  let  herself 
be  moved  by  Lucien,  although  she  was  much  flattered 
by  his  attentions.  Her  husband,  moreover,  advised 
her  to  be  gentle  with  the  brother  of  the  First  Consul. 
So  Madame  Re"camier  was  one  of  the  principal  orna- 
ments of  the  balls  given  by  the  Minister  of  the  Inte- 
rior. The  author  of  the  delightful  book,  "  Recollec- 
tions of  Madame  Re*camier,"  tells  us  that  she  produced 
a  very  great  effect  at  a  dinner,  followed  by  a  concert, 
which  Lucien  gave  to  his  brother,  General  Bonaparte. 
"  She  was  dressed  in  white  satin,  and  wore  a  neck- 
lace and  bracelets  of  pearls,  as  if  she  took  a  certain 
satisfaction  in  covering  herself  with  things  conspicu- 
ous for  their  whiteness,  in  order  to  efface  them  by 
the  beauty  of  her  complexion."  Fouche*,  the  member 
of  the  Convention,  afterwards  the  Duke  of  Otranto, 
came  behind  the  chair  in  which  she  sat,  and  said  to 
her  in  a  low  tone,  "  The  First  Consul  finds  you  charm- 
ing." 

At  that  moment  Napoleon  was  holding  the  hand 
of  one  of  Lucien's  daughters,  a  little  girl  of  not  more 
than  four,  and  in  talking  he  thought  no  more  about 


PARISIAN   SOCIETY  IN    THE    YEAR    VI IT.         55 


the  child,  who  grew  tired  of  her  captivity  and  began 
to  cry.  "  Oh !  you  poor  little  thing,"  said  the  First 
Consul,  with  genuine  pity ;  "  I  had  forgotten  you.''' 
Lucien  had  gone  up  to  Madame  Re'camier,  and  Napo- 
leon, who  knew  all  about  his  brother's  devotion,  said 
quite  loud,  "  I  should  like  to  go  to  Clichy  myself." 
(Clichy  was  where  Madame  Re'camier  lived.)  Din- 
ner was  announced,  and  Napoleon  went  in  first  with- 
out offering  his  arm  to  any  one  of  the  ladies.  He 
placed  his  mother  on  his  right,  and  the  place  on  his 
left  remained  empty,  no  one  daring  to  take  it.  Then 
he  turned  towards  the  guests  who  were  still  standing, 
and  said  suddenly  to  Garat,  the  singer,  "  Well,  Garat, 
sit  down  here."  At  the  same  moment  Cambaceres 
took  the  place  next  to  Madame  Re'camier,  and  Napo- 
leon called  out,  "  Ah,  citizen  Consul,  next  to  the 
handsomest  woman ! "  After  dinner  he  asked  Mad- 
ame Re'camier,  "Why  didn't  you  sit  next  to  me?" 
"  I  should  not  have  dared,"  she  replied.  He  an- 
swered, "  It  was  your  place." 

Madame  Me"chin,  Madame  Rdgnault  de  Saint-Jean- 
d'Angely,  and  Madame  Visconti  shone,  even  by  the 
side  of  Madame  Reeamier,  at  the  balls  of  the  Minis- 
ter of  the  Interior.  The  First  Consul's  three  sisters 
were  like  princesses  on  those  occasions.  Josephine, 
in  her  seat  at  the  end  of  the  gallery,  already  assumed 
the  bearing  of  a  sovereign.  The  women  all  rose  when 
she  entered  the  ball-room  and  when  she  left.  Resides 
the  entertainments  of  official  society,  there  were  those 
uf    the    great    bankers,    Messrs.    Perregaux,    Seguin, 


56  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

Hainguerlot,  Re*camier,  who  renewed  the  traditions 
of  the  farmers-general.  The  Faubourg  Saint  Germain 
was  not  yet  reconstituted,  and  the  aristocracy  gave 
no  entertainments,  but  they  amused  themselves  never- 
theless ;  there  were  Garat's  concerts,  the  theatre, 
dinners,  Tivoli,  Frascati,  and  the  Hanoverian  Pavil- 
ion. All  classes  of  society  were  eager  for  pleasure, 
and  dancing  was  especially  the  rage.  "  Next  to 
money,"  says  a  contemporary  pamphlet,  "  the  dance 
has  become  the  idol  of  the  Parisians.  With  small 
and  great,  with  rich  and  poor,  it  has  become  a  univer- 
sal passion.  There  is  dancing  at  the  Carmes,  where 
the  crowds  are  enormous;  at  the  Jesuits'  College;  at 
the  Seminary  of  Saint  Sulpice ;  at  the  Filles  Sainte 
Marie ;  in  three  or  four  churches ;  at  Ruggieri's, 
Lucquet's,  Manduit's,  Wentzel's ;  at  the  Thelusson 
mansion." 

The  reopening  of  the  Opera  balls  was  the  great 
attraction  of  the  Carnival  in  1800.  For  ten  years  the 
Parisians  had  been  deprived  of  this  favorite  pleasure. 
In  a  period  of  furious  hatred  and  of  general  slaughter, 
a  masked  ball  would  have  been  an  impossibility. 
Under  the  rule  of  Robespierre  the  spies  would  not 
have  respected  the  secrecy  and  security  of  a  mask. 
The  knife  of  the  guillotine  would  have  been  the 
punishment  of  a  witticism.  And  after  the  Terror,  men 
were  still  so  excited  that  those  who  wore  a  mask 
would  have  been  exposed  to  the  bitterest  recrimina- 
tions and  the  most  violent  abuse.  Bonaparte,  who 
was  dreaming  of  the  triumph  of  a  policy  of  concilia- 


PARI  SI  AX   SOCIETY  IX    THE    YEAR    VIII.         oT 

tion  and  fusion,  thought  that  under  his  government 
the  Opera  balls  had  become  once  more  possible,  and 
would  even  further  the  work  of  appeasement  which 
was  part  of  his  plan.  He  was  not  mistaken:  the  re- 
opening of  the  Opera  balls  seemed  to  him  an  event  of 
real  social  importance.  Hence  it  was  that  he  had 
two  long  articles,  which  to-day  are  a  real  historical 
curiosity,  inserted  on  the  first  page  of  the  Moniteur 
Universel,  in  the  numbers  of  the  8th  and  9th  of  Ven- 
tose,  year  VIII.  (February  20  and  27,  1800).  "The 
Opera  House  is  open,"  it  is  stated  in  the  first  of  these 
articles,  "it  is  crowded;  people  arrive  in  dense  crowds; 
five  or  six  thousand  persons  are  massed  in  a  space  too 
small  to  hold  them.  Thousands  of  different  disguises, 
thousands  of  elegant,  odd,  or  amusing  costumes,  call 
forth  jests  and  merry-making;  satire  has  free  scope, 
and  nothing  is  heard  but  laughter ;  all  faces  are  lit 
with  joy  and  confidence  ;  a  leader  of  the  riding-school, 
without  a  mask,  elbows  a  returned  exile."  The  offi- 
cial sheet,  which  saw  in  this  ball  a  sign  that  the  vari- 
ous parties  were  laving  down  their  arms,  adds  with 
keen  satisfaction  :  '•  It  is  a  curious  and  touching  pic- 
ture, less  interesting  for  the  times  it  recalls  than  for 
those  it  foretells.  It  shows  that  the  revolutionary 
leaven  has  ceased  to  ferment ;  that  Frenchmen,  tired 
of  hatred  and  fear,  now  only  care  to  join  hands  and 
forgive  one  another." 

Enthusiastic  over  these  happy  results,  the  Moniteur 
thus  apostrophized  the  foes  of  the  new  regime  :  "  Pu- 
pils of  Chaumette  and  Marat,  go  and  count  the  receipts 


58  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

at  the  opera ;  consider  that  the  twenty -five  or  thirty- 
thousand  francs,  paid  in  at  the  door,  will  carry  com- 
fort and  happiness  in  a  hundred  families  of  actors  or 
workmen  connected  with  this  theatre  ;  calculate  how 
much  the  shop-keepers  of  Paris  have  made  out  of 
those  expensive  costumes,  those  disguises  hired  for 
large  sums  (it  is  estimated  that  dominoes  were  let 
for  twenty-five,  thirty-six,  and  as  much  as  forty-eight 
francs),  out  of  the  carriages  which  were  insufficient 
in  number  to  accommodate  those  who  sought  them.'* 
Of  course  the  Moniteur  took  pains  to  give  Bonaparte 
credit  for  all  this :  "  When  some  of  the  persons  of 
the  First  Consul's  family  were  seen  at  this  entertain- 
ment, it  was  supposed  that  he  had  himself  come  to 
look  from  a  grated  box  upon  the  scene,  which  might 
well  have  given  him  the  sensation  of  noble  vanity. 
Every  one  who  thought  that  he  saw  him  would  have 
had  a  chance  to  say,  '  Nobis  haec  otia  fecit.'  "> 

The  other  article,  of  the  9th  of  Ventose,  expressed 
the  same  satisfaction,  although  there  are  some  re- 
serves in  regard  to  the  unfamiliarity  of  some  Pari- 
sians with  masked  balls  :  "  These  scenes  of  coquetry 
have  their  rules  which  ought  to  be  known,  and  a  lan- 
guage of  their  own,  which  ought  to  be  every  one's 
possession,  but  it  must  be  said  that  among  the  Pari- 
sians of  the  present  day,  some  have  never  known  the 
manners  of  a  masquerade,  and  others  have  forgotten 
them.  A  mask,  moreover,  implies  a  role  ;  a  role  pre- 
supposes an  actor,  and  not  every  one  is  an  actor,  and 
consequently    among    the    crowd    of    maskers    many 


PARISIAN    SOCIETY  IN    THE   YEAR    VIII.         ">9 

seemed  to  have  forgotten  their  names  and  their  char- 
acters. We  saw  a  good  many  undignified  Spaniards, 
ungraceful  dancing-girls,  commonplace  Orientals ;  we 
saw  discreet  nuns,  silent  lawyers,  solemn  clowns,  and 
statue-like  Harlequins." 

The  Moniteur  consoled  itself  with  the  hope  of 
speedy  improvement :  "  This  is  a  misfortune,"  it  says  ; 
"but  confiding  in  the  native  intelligence  of  the  happy 
Parisians,  we  feel  sure  that  they  will  soon  find  once 
more  the  talents  required  by  these  new  sports :  there 
is  no  occasion  for  uneasiness." 

Women  of  the  highest  society  went  in  great  num- 
bers to  the  Opera  balls.  They  wore  masks  and  domi- 
noes, and  amused  themselves  with  the  men  of  their 
acquaintance,  who  went  in  dress  suits,  without  masks. 
Madame  Recaniier,  who  was  very  timid  when  her 
face  was  visible,  became  lively  and  sportive  behind  a 
domino.  Madame  de  Stael,  on  the  other  hand,  as 
soon  as  she  was  masked,  lost  her  usual  high  spirits 
and  eloquence.  In  Paris,  nothing  was  talked  about 
but  the  Opera  balls  which  delighted  every  one.  The 
young  were  delighted  to  see  an  entertainment  which 
they  had  so  often  heard  warmly  spoken  of,  while 
their  elders  hoped  in  the  lamplight  to  go  back  ten 
years,  and  liked  to  fancy  that  the  horrors  of  the 
Revolution  were  only  a  bad  dream  which  vanished 
at  the  sound  of  the  joyous  music. 

While  Paris  was  thus  happy  in  feeling  itself  still 
frivolous,  and  was  trying  to  make  up  for  time  lost 
in  the  way  of  distractions  and  pleasures,  the  emigre's 


60  THE    WIFE  OF  TTIE  FIBST  CONSUL. 

who  were  compelled  to  conceal  themselves  under 
false  names,  began  to  make  their  way  back  to  the 
city  where  so  many  different  things  had  happened 
since  their  departure.  It  was  a  great  joy  to  them  to 
see  once  more  their  native  soil ;  but  there  was  much 
sadness  mingled  with  it.  Chateaubriand  has  de- 
scribed his  return.  It  was  one  Sunday,  at  about 
three  in  the  afternoon,  that  the  future  author  of  the 
"  Genius  of  Christianity "  entered  Paris  on  foot  by 
the  gate  of  the  Etoile,  after  an  absence  of  eight  years. 
Poor  and  obscure,  no  one  recognized  him.  "We 
have  now  no  idea,"  he  says,  "  of  the  impression  that 
the  excesses  of  the  Revolution  made  upon  the  minds 
of  men  throughout  Europe,  and  especially  upon  those 
away  from  France  during  the  Terror.  It  seemed  to 
me  as  if  I  were  actually  about  to  descend  into  hell." 
To  his  great  surprise,  he  heard  violins,  horns,  clari- 
onets, and  drums.  As  he  passed  down  the  Champs 
Elyse'es,  lie  saw  little  halls  where  men  and  women 
were  dancing.  The  Place  Louis  XV.  seemed  to  him 
an  accursed  spot :  "  It  was  dilapidated,  as  melancholy 
and  deserted  as  an  old  amphitheatre."  Before  the 
place  where  stood  the  scaffold  of  Louis  XVI.  he  was 
overcome  by  profound  emotion.  "  I  was  afraid,"  he 
says,  "  of  stepping  in  the  blood  of  which  no  trace 
was  left.  ...  I  imagined  that  I  saw  my  brother 
and  my  sister-in-law,  with  their  hands  bound,  near 
the  bloody  instrument.  ...  In  spite  of  the  merri- 
ment of  the  streets,  the  church-towers  were  dumb; 
I  seemed  to  have  got  back  on  some  day  of  great 
solemnity,  like  Good  Friday." 


PARISIAN    SOCIETY   IX    THE    YEAR    VIII.         <U 


In  her  Memoirs,  Madame  de  Genlis  has  also  well 
described  her  return,  her  emotion  when  she  crossed 
the  frontier  and  entered  into  France,  when  she  heard 
the  people  speaking  French,  when  she  drew  near  Paris 
and  made  out  from  a  distance  the  towers  of  Notre 
Dame,  when  she  found  how  the  city  had  changed 
during  her  absence.  Everything  seemed  novel;  she 
was  like  a  foreigner  whose  curiosity  stops  her  at 
every  step.  The  names  of  the  streets  were  changed. 
Cabs  passed  her  which  she  recognized  as  confiscated 
carriages  of  her  friends.  She  entered  a  little  second- 
hand shop  where  were  some  twenty  portraits.  "  I 
recognized  them  all,  and  my  eyes  filled  with  tears  as 
I  thought  that  three-quarters  of  the  nobles  they  rep- 
resented had  been  guillotined,  and  that  the  others, 
robbed  of  every  penny  and  exiled,  were  perhaps  still 
wandering  in  foreign  lands." 

What  consoled  Madame  de  Genlis  for  so  many 
sorrows  was  the  military  glory  of  France.  "I  was 
glad  to  meet  the  son  of  one  of  my  gamekeepers,  now 
a  captain,  who  had  served  in  our  successful  armies 
with  great  distinction.  His  line  bearing  and  his  mar- 
tial air  reminded  me  of  what  La  Rochefoucauld  had 
said:  'Vulgarity  is  never  lost  at  court;  it  always  is 
in  the  army.'  '  The  emigres  who  returned  soon 
grew  accustomed  to  the  new  regime.  They  used  to 
talk  calmly  with  the  murderers  of  their  relatives. 
Jacobins  and  the  men  of  Coblenz  used  to  meet  every 
day  in  the  theatres,  in  the  promenades,  ami  a  sort  of 
calm  succeeded  the  paroxysm  of  wrath  and  hatred. 


62  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

As  Chateaubriand  said,  "Bonaparte  put  the  Brutuses 
and  Scsevolas  into  the  police,  and  set  about  adorning 
them  with  ribands,  and  degrading  them  with  titles, 
compelling  them  to  betray  their  opinions  and  to  dis- 
honor their  crimes.  Day  by  day  there  went  on  the 
metamorphosis  of  the  tyranny  of  all  into  the  tyranny 
of  a  single  man." 


V. 


THE  TWO  NATIONAL  FESTIVALS. 

THE  consular  government  was  very  strong  in 
1800,  and  yet  it  could  not  have  survived  a  de- 
feat ;  the  baptism  of  victory  was  absolutely  necessary 
to  its  existence.  If  the  First  Consul  had  been  beaten 
at  Marengo,  all  the  recent  framework  of  his  power 
and  glory  would  have  fallen  like  a  house  of  cards. 
He  was  well  aware  of  this,  and  before  he  started  for 
the  second  Italian  campaign  he  said  that  he  was 
staking  everything  for  everything.  In  spite  of  an 
apparent  truce  the  parties  had  not  disarmed,  and  they 
awaited  with  impatience  the  course  of  events  on  the 
other  side  of  the  Alps.  Royalists,  Jacobins,  bankers, 
speculators,  wondered  most  anxiously  what  would  be 
the  result  of  Bonaparte's  new  challenge  to  fortune. 
His  political  foes  pictured  him  already  beaten,  over- 
thrown, perhaps  slain,  and  formed  a  thousand  plans, 
as  if  the  succession  were  already  open.  All  this 
agitation  was  of  brief  duration.  Bonaparte  left  Paris 
May  0,  1800;  he  returned  July  2.  In  less  than  two 
months  he  had  accomplished  great  things. 

As  was  usual  with  him,  the  conqueror  had  the  gift 

03 


04  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  (JONtSUL. 

of  setting  his  victories  before  the  public.  Everything 
was  arranged  for  arousing  the  Parisians,  the  modern 
Athenians,  for  impressing  their  imagination.  Gen- 
eral de  Se*gur  puts  it  thus :  "  We  are  all  young,  sol- 
diers and  generals.  A  third  of  our  number  were  fresh 
recruits.  The  oldest  had  had  but  eight  years'  expe- 
rience. A  threefold  spring,  —  that  of  the  year,  of 
our  life,  of  glory,  —  the  rivalry  within  us  and  about  us, 
inspired  us."  This  imitation  of  Hannibal,  the  cross- 
ing of  the  Alps,  a  bold  undertaking,  an  army  defiling 
man  by  man,  one  by  one,  by  the  goat-paths,  over  the 
eternal  snows ;  the  artillery  taken  to  pieces ;  the 
cannon  dragged  by  ropes ;  every  soldier,  every  horse, 
in  danger  of  death  at  the  least  misstep ;  the  Saint 
Bernard,  with  its  monks  and  dogs ;  the  avalanches, 
the  precipices  ;  the  sudden  entrance  into  the  plains 
of  Italy ;  the  day  of  Marengo,  so  hotly  contested ;  the 
heroic  and  touching  death  of  the  brave  Desaix  ;  Italy 
won  back  in  a  campaign  of  a  few  days,  —  this  new 
heroic  history  worthy  of  antiquity  was  the  general 
subject  of  conversation,  and  aroused  every  one's 
enthusiasm.  Never,  at  any  period  of  his  life,  was 
Napoleon  so  popular,  and  yet  he  was  not  sated  with 
his  glory.  On  his  way  to  Paris,  through  Burgundy, 
he  said  to  Bourrienne,  "  Well,  a  few  grand  deeds  like 
this  campaign,  and  I  may  be  known  to  posterity." 
"  It  seems  to  me,"  was  the  answer,  "  that  you  have 
already  done  enough  to  be  talked  about  everywhere 
for  some  time."  "  Done  enough  !  "  said  the  hero  of 
Marengo  ;  "  You  are  very  kind  !     To  be  sure,  in  less 


I  111-:   TWO   NATIONAL    FESTIVALS.  ♦  >.') 


than  two  years  I  have  conquered  Cairo,  Paris,  and 
Milan ;  well,  my  dear  fellow,  if  I  were  to  die  to- 
morrow, after  ten  centuries  I  shouldn't  fill  half  a 
page  in  a  universal  history." 

Bonaparte  passed  through  France  amid  ovations. 
At  Dijon  he  was  congratulated  by  a  company  of 
young  women  wearing  flowers  in  their  hair,  who 
resembled  the  groups  of  women  who.  in  the  days  of 
ancient  Greece,  used  to  dance  about  the  victor  in  the 
Olympic  games.  At  Sens  he  passed  beneath  a  tri- 
umphant arch  on  which  was  inscribed  the  three  his- 
toric words,  "  Veni,  vidi,  vici."  When  he  re-entered 
Paris,  in  the  night  of  July  2,  the  enthusiasm  was 
indescribable.  All,  rich  and  poor,  rejoiced,  and  the 
next  day  a  vast  crowd  gathered  in  the  Tuileries 
gardens. 

Every  one  wanted  to  see  the  conquering  hero. 
When  the  chief  officials  of  the  state  came  to  congrat- 
ulate him,  he  said  to  them :  "  Well,  have  you  done 
much  work  while  I  was  away?"  And  they  an- 
swered, tk  Not  so  much  as  you,  General.''  In  the 
evening  the  whole  city  was  illuminated,  and  without 
orders ;  every  window,  even  to  the  garrets,  showed 
a  light.  Twenty  years  later,  at  Saint  Helena,  Napo- 
leon spoke  of  this  day  as  one  of  the  proudest  and 
happiest  of  his  life. 

He  was  delighted  to  see  .Josephine  again;  not  a 
cloud  had  at  that  time  arisen  between  them,  and  their 
union  was  a  real  model  of  reciprocal  affection.  The 
hero  of  Marengo  felt  that  this  woman,  whom  he  dearly 


60  THE   WIFE   OF  THE  EIllST   CONSUL. 


loved,  was  his  good  angel.  "  Bourrienne,"  he  said  to 
his  secretary,  "  do  you  hear  the  hurrahs  of  the  popu- 
lace which  have  not  stopped  yet?  It  is  as  sweet 
to  me  as  the  sound  of  Josephine's  voice."  As  La 
Bruy£re  puts  it :  "  The  sweetest  sound  in  nature  is 
that  of  the  voice  of  the  woman  we  love." 

Bonaparte's  ambition  had  never  been  more  satis- 
fied, and  never  had  the  national  pride  of  France  been 
more  flattered.  "  Military  glory,"  to  quote  from 
Miot  de  Melito,  "  was  not  yet  a  burden  to  the  citi- 
zens, because  the  soldiers  and  officers  came  from  all 
ranks  of  society  without  distinction,  and  returned  to 
them  without  disturbance.  The  army  belonged  to 
the  country,  and  its  victories,  in  appearance  at  least, 
profited  the  country  alone :  it  had  not  yet  become  the 
property  of  the  Head  of  the  State.  What,  then,  was 
needed  to  assure  this  prosperity  ?  What  was  lacking 
to  give  Europe  the  example  of  a  great  nation,  regen- 
erated, in  the  enjoyment  of  freedom  without  license, 
triumphant  under  skilful  leaders,  and  yet  not  their 
slave?  A  Washington."  And  he  adds  sadly,  "The 
man  on  whom  our  destinies  depended  professed  to 
carry  us  back  into  the  old  paths ;  and  unfortunately 
for  him  as  for  us,  he  was  only  too  ingenious,  and  too 
much  aided  in  this  undertaking." 

In  1800  Bonaparte,  apparently  at  least,  was  still  a 
Republican.  Twelve  days  after  his  return  to  Paris 
occurred  the  national  festival  of  July  14,  the  anni- 
versary of  the  taking  of  the  Bastille  and  of  the  Feder- 
ation.    This  festival,  one  of  the  finest  which  had  ever 


THE    TWO    XATIOXAL    FESTIVALS. 


been  seen  in  Paris,  still  preserved  its  democratic  and 
military  character.  The  people  and  the  army  joined 
hands.  The  Consular  Guard,  which  had  left  Milan 
June  22,  had  been  ordered  to  get  to  Paris  in  the 
morning  of  July  14.  At  Geneva  it  was  invited  by 
the  authorities  to  a  great  banquet;  and  each  officer 
found  a  laurel  wreath  under  his  napkin,  with  a  poem 
by  Madame  de  Stael,  who  did  the  honors.  The 
Guard,  to  which  had  been  entrusted  the  care  of  bring- 
ing the  Austrian  flags  captured  at  Marengo,  was 
exact  at  the  rendezvous  appointed  by  the  First  Con- 
sul. At  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning  of  July  14,  it 
was  in  the  courtyard  of  the  Tuileries,  whence  it  de- 
parted for  the  Invalides,  and  then  for  the  Champ  de 
Mars.  Prince  Eugene,  who  belonged  to  it,  says  in 
his  Memoirs,  "  The  members  of  the  Guard  who  had 
been  left  on  duty  in  Paris  presented  a  striking  con- 
trast, with  their  neat  and  smart  appearance,  to  the 
troops  just  back  from  Italy,  who  were  all  gaunt, 
worn,  and  covered  with  dust.  This  contrast  only  re- 
doubled the  enthusiasm  and  respect  of  the  Parisians, 
which  the  mere  presence  of  the  soldiers  had  evoked. 
It  was  one  of  the  proudest  moments  of  my  life.'' 
Josephine  was  very  happy  to  see  her  son  taking  part 
in  such  a  triumph. 

The  celebration  was  held  at  the  Invalides,  the 
chapel  of  which  was  called  the  Temple  of  Mars. 
Lucien  Bonaparte,  as  Minister  of  the  Interior,  made 
a  speech,  full  of  republican  sentiment.  Doubtless  he 
remembered  that  at  Saint  Cloud  on  the  19th  Brumaire 


68  THE    WIFE   OF  THE  Fill  ST  CONSUL. 

he  had  sworn  to  kill  his  brother  with  his  sword  if  he 
should  ever  lay  a  hand  upon  the  liberties  of  France. 
He  uttered  a  warm  eulogy  of  the  Revolution,  and 
spoke  of  the  capture  of  the  Bastille :  "  The  Bastille 
is  taken,  O  France  !  Republic,  cemented  by  the  blood 
of  heroes  and  martyrs,  may  Liberty,  more  precious 
for  what  it  has  cost  us,  and  Peace,  healer  of  every 
evil,  be  forever  thy  preserving  deities !  "  By  a  sin- 
gular association  of  ideas,  the  brother  of  the  First 
Consul  combined  the  14th  of  July  and  the  18th  of 
Brumaire.  "  The  18th  Brumaire  completed  the  work 
of  July  14.  All  that  the  earlier  day  destroyed  shall 
never  be  renewed ;  all  that  the  later  has  built  up  is 
never  to  be  destroyed.  .  .  .  Frenchmen,  let  us  bear 
with  pride  the  name  of  the  great  people  ;  let  this 
name  be  an  object  of  universal  love  and  admiration, 
so  that  in  the  remotest  ages  the  heroes  of  the  14th 
of  July,  the  defenders  and  supporters  of  the  Empire, 
may  be  held  up  to  the  respect  of  our  descendants, 
and  so  that  the  Republic  founded  by  their  efforts 
may  be  as  eternal  as  their  glory." 

The  word  Umpire  is,  perhaps,  a  little  startling  in 
this  passage.  It  sounds  like  a  prophecy,  but  it  must 
be  remembered  that  in  1800  it  was  regarded  as  syn- 
onymous with  state.  The  celebrated  song,  "Let  us 
guard  the  Welfare  of  the  Empire,"  was  written  by 
Republicans  in  the  days  of  the  Republic.  It  was  a 
national  hymn. 

When  Lucien  had  finished,  three  bands  played 
simultaneously  the   "  Song   of   the    25th    Messidor " 


THE   TWO    XAT10XAL    FESTIVALS.  tl'.t 

(July  14),  the  words  by  Citizen  Fontanes,  the  music 
by  Citizen  Me'hul.  It  was  the  first  time  that  the 
experiment  had  been  tried  of  a  concert  by  three 
bands  at  some  distance  from  one  another.  The  solos 
and  choruses  produced  a  great  effect. 

O  glorious  destiny  ! 

Applaud,  people  of  France ! 

Soon,  crowned  with  palms, 

Victory  will  establish  peace. 

The  brow  of  the  Alps  humbles  itself  : 

We  have  crossed  its  ice ; 

And  all  the  forts  of  Italy 

Open  a  second  time  to  our  soldiers. 

Solo. 

You  die,  brave  Desaix,  you  die !     Ah,  can  you  believe 

That  the  glory  of  your  name  expires  with  you? 

The  Arab,  in  the  desert,  recounts  your  glory, 

And  his  children  will  tell  it  to  their  children  for  all  time. 

According  to  the  Moniteur  there  was  great  emotion 
at  this  moment.  Al!  turned  towards  the  monument 
raised  in  his  honor,  which  was  topped  by  his  bust, 
the  work  of  Citizen  Dupaty. 

Chorus  of  Warriors. 

O  Conde,  Dugominier,  Turenne, 
It  is  you  whom  I  hear,  whom  I  see; 
You  seek  the  great  captain 
Who  has  outdone  all  his  exploits. 
The  sons  are  greater  than  their  sires, 
And  your  hearts  are  not  jealous. 
France,  after  so  many  sufferings, 
Rises  again  better  worthy  of  you. 


70  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

A  great  century  ends,  a  great  century  begins. 
Glory,  virtues,  fine  arts,  arise  with  it! 
()  God  !  see  this  great  people  bowed  at  thy  feet. 
The  conquerors  of  Europe  invoke  thy  aid. 

Old  Men. 

From  infancy  and  youth 

To  love  work  and  good  morals. 

Young  Men. 
Give  peace  to  the  aged. 

Young  Women. 
Grant  to  all  happier  days. 

General  Chorus. 

Immortal  Being,  by  thy  light 
Let  France  advance  henceforth, 
And  to  warlike  merit 
Add  all  the  virtues  of  peace. 

When  the  choral  was  over,  the  First  Consul  went 
into  the  courtyard,  behind  the  dome,  where  he  visited 
the  disabled  soldiers.  The  five  whom  their  com- 
panions had  picked  out  as  most  worthy  of  national 
reward,  were  presented  to  him,  and  he  gave  them 
gold  medals  inscribed  with  their  name,  age,  birth- 
place, and  exploits.  Then  he  went  to  the  Champ  de 
Mars,  where  the  troops  were  waiting  for  him  under 
arms.  Every  bit  of  high  ground  was  densely  crowded, 
and  all  the  windows  of  the  Military  School  were 
packed  with  spectators. 

The  Minister  of  War  presented  to  the  three  Con- 
suls the  ollicers  who  carried  the  captured  battle-flags. 


TIIE   TWO   yATIOXAL    FESTIVALS.  71 

Every  one  wanted  to  get  a  nearer  view  of  these 
trophies  of  the  heroes  who  had  deserved  so  well 
of  their  country,  of  the  victorious  general  who  had 
accomplished  so  much.  They  left  the  high  ground 
and  rushed  into  the  Champ  de  Mars  in  the  midst  of 
the  troops.  Nothing  could  oppose  them.  No  orders, 
no  obstacles,  stopped  this  irresistible  throng.  Every 
one  shouted,  "  Long  live  the  Republic !  Long  live 
Bonaparte!"  "These  two  names,"  said  the  Moni- 
teur,  "are  equally  dear  to  the  French.  Let  the 
friends  of  liberty  rejoice ;  so  touching  a  spectacle  was 
never  seen.  .  .  .  What  a  people  is  this!  Happy  is  he 
who  can  serve  it  and  win  its  love ! "  The  celebra- 
tion ended  with  all  sorts  of  amusements :  foot  and 
horse  races,  a  balloon  ascent,  illuminations,  music 
and  dancing  in  the  Champs  Elyse*es,  fireworks,  and 
a  concert.  At  the  grand  dinner,  at  which  Bonaparte 
was  present  with  the  principal  officials  of  the  Repul>- 
lie,  were  to  be  seen  the  disabled  soldiers  who  had 
that  morning  received  the  medals  at  the  Temple  of 
Mars,  and  with  them  two  of  their  comrades,  one 
aged  one  hundred  and  four;  the  other,  one  hundred 
and  seven.  The  First  Consul  proposed  this  toast: 
"  To  the  14th  of  July  and  the  French  People,  our 
sovereign ! " 

The  celebration  of  the  1st  Vende'miaiiv,  year  IX., 
was  also  a  Republican  festival;  it  was  tin;  anniver- 
sary of  the  foundation  of  the  Republic ;  it  intro- 
duced, however,  soim:  monarchical  memories.  The 
First   Consul   wished   to    make    combination   of    all 


72  THE  WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

forms  of  glory.  The  festival  of  the  1st  Vende'miaire, 
year  IX.,  was  preluded,  as  it  were,  by  that  of  the 
fifth  complementary  day  of  the  year  VIII.  On  that 
day  the  remains  of  Turenne,  with  his  sword  and  the 
bullet  that  killed  him,  were  transported  in  great 
pomp  to  the  Temple  of  Mars  (the  Chapel  of  the 
Invalides),  where  Carnot,  the  Minister  of  War,  made 
a  speech. 

The  former  member  of  the  Convention  spoke  in 
the  highest  praise  of  the  great  general  of  Louis  XIV. 
"  On  the  tomb  of  Turenne  the  old  man  will  every 
day  shed  tears  of  admiration ;  thither  the  young  man 
will  come  to  test  his  talent  for  a  military  life.  .  .  . 
In  our  days  Turenne  would  have  been  the  first  to 
spring  into  the  path  which  our  Republican  phalanxes 
have  followed.  Words  cannot  describe  our  feelings 
here.  What  have  I  to  say  of  Turenne  ?  There  he 
is  himself.  Of  his  victories?  There  is  the  sword 
which  his  victorious  arm  wielded.  Of  his  death? 
There  is  the  fatal  bullet  which  tore  him  from  France, 
from  all  humanity." 

In  the  evening  of  the  same  day  there  were  free 
performances  in  the  theatres.  The  First  Consul  and 
his  wife  went  to  the  Francois,  where  the  "  Cid  "  and 
"  Tartufe  "  were  given.  In  the  morning,  Turenne  ; 
in  the  evening,  Corneille  and  Moliere. 

Another  reminiscence  of  Louis  XIV. :  On  the  1st 
Vend<3iniaire  it  was  in  the  Place  des  Victoires,  the 
spot  where  that  king's  statue  had  been  placed  that 
Bonaparte  laid  the  corner-stone  of  the  monument  to 


TUB   TWO  NATIONAL   FESTIVALS.  73 

Kldber  and  Desaix.  In  the  middle  of  the  square 
there  had  been  put  up  a  building  like  an  Egyptian 
temple  with  a  dome,  beneath  which  stood  the  busts 
of  the  two  heroes  The  windows,  balconies,  even 
the  roofs  of  the  houses,  were  crowded  with  specta- 
tors, who  burst  into  frantic  applause  the  moment  the 
First  Consul  appeared. 

Bonaparte  afterwards  went  to  the  Invalides,  where 
he  found  inscribed  in  gold  letters  on  marble  tablets 
the  names  of  the  men  who  had  received  arms  of 
honor.  In  the  Temple  of  Mars  was  given  the  "Song 
of  the  1st  of  Venddmiaire,"  with  words  by  Esmenard 
and  music  by  Lesueur,  a  Republican  hymn,  in  which 
this  stanza  was  noted :  — 

Liberty,  banished  from  the  walls  of  Romulus 

Far  from  the  degraded  Tiber,  fleeing  from  tyranny, 

Hastens  at  your  voice  ; 
And  on  the  happy  banks  which  the  Seine  fertilizes, 
It  comes  to  raise  again,  for  the  happiness  of  the  world, 

Its  altars  and  its  laws. 

Lucien  Bonaparte,  the  Minister  of  the  Interior, 
then  spoke  in  the  Temple  of  Mars,  in  honor  of  the 
establishment  of  the  Republic.  "Though  but  just 
born,"  he  said,  "Republican  France,  stronger  than 
all  thrones,  advances  with  a  giant's  stride,  visiting 
and  forming  again  the  old  boundaries  of  ancient 
Gaul.  The  sceptre  of  Henry  IV.  and  of  Louis  XIV. 
rolls  shattered  in  the  dust :  at  once  the  government 
of  the  sovereign  people  seizes  all  the  sceptres  of 
Charlemagne.     So  eight  years  of  our  era  have  filled 


74  THE   WIFE  OF  TIIE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

our  annals  with  more  victories  and  wonders  than 
eight  hundred  years  of  the  rule  of  kings.  To  our 
Revolution  alone  belongs  this  gigantic  and  wonder- 
ful character ;  the  evils  which  afflicted  us  belong  to 
all.  Happy  is  the  generation  which  sees  a  revolution 
begun  under  a  monarchy  ended  by  the  Republic." 
He  ended  with  this  lyrical  outburst:  "It  seems  to 
me  as  if  upright  on  a  broken  statue  or  on  the  ruined 
tomb  of  an  old  king  of  France,  the  century  just  end- 
ing takes  its  flight,  and  says  to  the  beginning  century : 
'  I  leave  you  a  grand  heritage.  I  have  augmented 
all  branches  of  human  knowledge ;  I  have  been  called 
the  age  of  philosophy.  I  disappeared,  and  the  storms 
re-enter  with  me  into  the  night  of  time.  .  .  .  Pre- 
serve peace  and  liberty ;  do  not  disappoint  the  hope 
of  sages'  .  .  .  ."  And  then,  at  the  height  of  his 
enthusiasm :  "  The  century  that  begins  will  be  the 
grand  century.  I  swear  by  the  people,  whose  in- 
strument I  am,  by  the  wisdom  of  the  first  magis- 
trates, by  the  union  of  citizens.  The  great  destinies 
of  Republican  France  are  accomplished." 

When  the  orator  had  ceased,  cries  of,  "Long  live 
the  Republic  !  "  resounded  from  all  parts.  The  lib- 
eral promises  of  the  consular  government  still  inspired 
confidence ;  and  it  was  in  thus  piously  uttering  the 
name  of  Liberty,  in  exalting  the  capture  of  the  Bas- 
tille, in  celebrating  with  pomp  the  Republican  holi- 
days, that  the  preparations  were  laid  for  the  speedy 
re-establishment  of  absolute  monarchy. 


VI. 


MALMAISON   IN   1800. 


WE  have  just  seen  Bonaparte  and  Josephine  in 
all  the  brilliancy  of  official  life  in  the  palace 
of  the  Tuileries,  surrounded  by  all  the  pomp  of  real 
sovereignty.  Let  us  now  study  them  in  their  rustic 
life,  in  an  agreeable,  modest  country-house.  The 
husband  and  wife  appear  without  formality,  showing 
their  domestic  qualities,  and  one  soon  grows  interested 
in  the  slightest  details  of  their  lives.  We  are  almost 
like  their  guests,  and  we  may  learn  to  know  them  as 
if  we  had  spent  years  in  their  company.  We  should 
study  them  especially  at  Malmaison,  for  no  other 
mansion  is  so  rich  in  memories  of  them.  By  going 
through  it  as  it  is  to-day,  deserted  and  empty,  it  is 
possible  to  imagine  it  as  it  was  in  1800.  Some  day, 
perhaps,  it  will  be  torn  down,  the  victim  of  some  rev- 
olutionary mob;  now,  however,  while  it  is  still  stand- 
ing as  it  existed  in  tin1  beginning  of  the  century,  it  is 
easy  to  give  eacb  room  its  old  physiognomy,  to  recall 
its  former  animation,  to  renew  its  past. 

On  the  left  bark  of  the  Seine,  close  to  the  village 
of  Rueil,  at  the  foot  of  the  charming  amphitheatre 


(O 


76  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

topped  in  the  distance  by  the  aqueduct  of  Marly, 
stands  the  famous  mansion  amid  dense  verdure.  I 
walk  up  the  avenue  of  palm-trees  to  the  castle  gate ; 
passing  through  this,  I  enter  the  main  courtyard, 
with  gravel  paths  intersecting  the  grass-plots  and 
flower-beds  as  in  old  times.  I  gaze  at  its  front  with 
its  three  stories,  its  two  wings,  its  slate  roof ;  every- 
thing is  as  it  was  in  1800.  Under  a  tent-shaped  ve- 
randa, surmounted  by  gilded  crescents,  I  enter  the 
great  hall  paved  with  squares  of  black  and  white 
marble.  This  runs  through  the  mansion,  giving  a 
view  of  the  park  beyond.  The  roof  above  is  vaulted, 
and  is  upheld  by  four  stucco  columns.  To  the  left 
of  the  hall  are  the  dining-room,  the  council-chamber, 
the  library;  to  the  right,  the  billiard-room,  Jose- 
phine's boudoir  and  drawing-room,  the  picture-gallery. 
The  dining-room  is  decorated  with  six  nymphs,  in 
black  and  white,  on  a  stucco  ground.  In  old  times 
there  was  a  large  window  of  plate-glass  between  the 
hall  and  the  dining-room,  through  which  Josephine 
used  to  watch  the  children  coming  to  receive  toys 
and  sweetmeats.  On  the  mosaic  floor  I  see  a  rose 
which  marked  the  place  where  she  used  to  sit  at  table. 
Then  there  is  the  council-chamber  where  so  many 
important  deliberations  were  held,  the  library  with  a 
door  on  which  are  painted  two  helmets  and  two  in- 
scriptions from  the  Greek  and  from  the  time  of  chiv- 
alry. This  was  the  taste  of  the  time  —  reminiscences 
of  antiquity  and  of  the  Middle  Ages.  There  is  not  a 
single  book  on  the  shelves,  but  I  notice  the  medal- 


MALMAISON  IN   7S00.  77 

lions  of  Plutarch's  heroes  and  the  mahogany  arches 
separated  by  windows.  I  picture  to  myself  Bona- 
parte in  this  room,  studying,  reading,  meditating,  and 
unfolding  his  maps.  From  the  library  there  is  a  pas- 
sage into  the  garden,  over  a  little  bridge  across  the 
moat,  which  on  this  side  lies  close  to  the  castle.  In 
1800  this  bridge  was  covered  by  a  canvas  tent  which 
gave  the  First  Consul  another  room.  He  used  to 
have  his  table  carried  thither,  and  would  work  there 
alone,  stepping  every  moment  from  the  bridge  out 
into  the  garden,  and  from  the  garden  back  to  the 
bridge.  "  When  I  am  in  the  open  air,"  he  used  to 
say,  "  I  become  conscious  that  my  ideas  expand  more 
freely-  I  can't  understand  men  who  can  sit  by  the 
stove  and  work  without  any  view  of  the  sky." 

Retracing  my  steps,  I  return  by  the  library, 
council-hall,  and  dining-room  to  the  hall,  and  pass 
through  it  to  the  billiard-room,  which  is  wainscoted 
with  wood  painted  light  green.  I  see  the  billiard- 
table,  or  rather  its  frame,  for  in  1870  the  Prussians 
took  away  its  cloth  and  the  bed.  I  then  look  at 
the  boudoir,  which  is  perfectly  bare,  and  go  into  the 
drawing-room,  which  is  equally  empty.  The  mantel- 
piece, into  which  were  set  mosaic  medallions,  a 
present  from  the  Pope,  has  been  damaged,  but  the 
arabesques,  which  represent  flowers  and  birds  in  gold 
on  a  white  ground,  have  not  been  destroyed.  It  was 
in  this  room  that  Josephine  used  to  hold  her  levees, 
and  here,  a  few  days  before  her  death,  she  received 
the  visit  of   the  Emperor  Alexander.      The  mirrors 


78  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

which  reflected  so  many  beautiful  faces,  so  many 
gorgeous  uniforms,  are  broken ;  but  one  would  say 
that  the  graceful  shade  of  Josephine  wanders  silently 
through  this  drawing-room  of  which  she  was  the  cen- 
tral figure.  On  one  side  is  the  gallery  where  the 
musicians  used  to  stand,  and  where  Garat  and  other 
great  artists  sang,  where  Queen  Hortense,  who  was  a 
charming  composer  and  performer,  used  to  play  the 
harp  and  sing,  —  the  gallery  where  were  many  pic- 
tures and  objects  of  art,  now  all  dispersed. 

We  have  examined  the  ground  floor,  and  will  now 
ascend  the  staircase  opening  on  the  billiard-room, 
and  go  up  to  the  first  floor.  To  the  right  an  ante- 
room leads  up  to  Josephine's  bed-chamber,  a  round 
room.  In  old  times  it  was  hung  with  red.  We  can 
still  make  out  the  painting  on  the  ceiling,  a  blue  sky 
with  clouds  and  a  few  dashes  of  gold  on  the  wood- 
work. The  place  where  the  bed  stood  is  empty. 
Napoleon  and  Josephine  occupied  this  room  for  a 
long  time,  and  it  was  of  this  period  of  his  life  that 
Napoleon  said  at  Saint  Helena,  "  Not  one  of  my 
thoughts,  not  one  of  my  actions,  escaped  Josephine  ; 
she  followed,  grasped,  guessed  everything,  —  a  fact 
which  sometimes  inconvenienced  me  in  my  occupa- 
tions." It  was  there  that  she  wrote  to  her  mother, 
who  had  stayed  in  Martinique,  "  You  ought  to  love 
Bonaparte  ;  he  makes  your  daughter  very  happy  ;  he 
is  kind,  amiable,  in  a  word,  a  charming  man."  This 
room  was  also  the  scene  of  her  unhappiness.  To  it, 
when  driven  from  the  Tuileries,  she  returned  to  sleep 


JtAHiAIRON  IN  1800.  79 

the  evening  of  the  day  when  her  divorce  was  pro- 
nounced. In  it  she  drew  her  last  breath;  and  there, 
after  his  return  from  Elba,  he  locked  himself  up  to 
muse  in  solitude.  The  next  room  was  his  retiring- 
room  during  the  Consulate.  Another  room  and  a 
bathroom  completed  their  private  apartment.  At 
the  other  end  of  the  castle  were  the  rooms  which 
Hortense  occupied  after  her  marriage. 

In  the  middle  of  the  first  floor  is  a  long  corridor, 
lit  by  eight  windows  opening  on  the  courtyard.  It 
leads  to  the  little  rooms  which  are  generally  assigned 
to  guests.  During  the  Consulate  they  were  simply 
furnished.  The  aides-de-camp  and  visitors  used  to 
occupy  them. 

Descending  the  staircase  to  the  hall,  we  may  go 
out  into  the  garden,  over  a  little  bridge  decorated 
with  two  obelisks  of  red  granite,  a  reminiscence  of 
the  campaign  in  Egypt.  Here  is  the  broad  lawn 
where,  in  1800,  they  used  to  play  prisoners'  base,  and 
where  they  dined  in  pleasant  weather.  It  is  covered 
with  clumps  of  trees,  and  by  streams  flowing  from  a 
spring  over  which  stood  a  little  temple  hidden  by 
the  trees.  In  the  gardens  there  were  places  for  all 
sorts  of  games  to  amuse  the  aides-de-camp  and  the 
young  people  of  the  family  and  the  court.  Like 
Marie  Antoinette's  Little  Trianon,  Josephine's  Mal- 
maison  had  its  summer-houses,  its  sheepfolds,  its  cot- 
tages, its  exotic  trees,  its  rare  plants,  belvederes,  its 
greensward,  its  link-  lakes  with  swans  both  white 
and    black,  its   Temple   of    Love.     The    temple  still 


80  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

exists;  I  see  its  Ionic  columns  of  red  marble,  but 
the  god  is  no  longer  there ;  I  do  not  find  the  statue 
of  Eros,  who,  on  a  pedestal  garlanded  with  roses, 
held  his  bow  to  wound  another  conquest  with  his 
dart:  my  eyes  seek  in  vain  Voltaire's  famous  dis- 
tich :  — 

Whoe'er  thou  art,  thy  master  see; 
He  is,  or  was,  or  soon  shall  be. 

In  1800  Malmaison  was  the  resting-place,  the  favor- 
ite resort,  of  the  First  Consul.  Thither  he  went  for 
distraction  from  the  cares  of  power  and  the  fatigue 
of  greatness.  There  in  the  springtime  he  used  to 
take  what  he  called  his  furlough ;  that  is  to  say,  the 
evening  of  the  ninth  day,  the  whole  of  the  tenth  day, 
and  the  next  morning.  In  summer,  after  his  return 
from  Italy,  he  used  to  spend  many  days  every  week 
in  this  dear  Malmaison  where  Josephine  had  estab- 
lished herself.  There  the  great  man  was  amiable, 
familiar,  and  kind.  He  was  more  than  informal ;  he 
was  companionable.  He  used  to  take  part  in  the 
games  with  all  the  zest  of  a  young  man.  He  would 
make  jokes  and  admit  discussions,  and  he  told  stories 
with  astounding  brilliancy  and  wit.  As  host  he  was 
considerate,  affable,  entertaining,  and  lie  left  his 
guests  perfect  freedom.  The  entertainments  were 
likewise  informal  and  merry.  Those  about  the  first 
magistrate  of  the  Republic  did  not  suffer  from  the 
wearisome  formality,  the  servile  refinements,  the  in- 
sipid flattery,  the  childishly  intricate  etiquette  which 


MALMA1S0S    IX    7800.  81 


became  so  onerous  under  tlie  Empire.  Bonaparte, 
who  had  not  yet  abandoned  republican  ways,  was  not 
yet  intoxicated  by  the  monarchical  incense.  His 
meals  were  simple ;  he  sat  scarcely  half  an  hour  at 
table.  After  dinner,  when  he  was  in  a  good  humor 
and  the  weather  was  fine,  he  was  free  to  steal  a  few 
minutes  from  his  work,  and  he  used  to  play  prisoners' 
base  with  all  the  eagerness  of  a  schoolboy. 

Let  us  watch  these  sports.  Here  is  the  First  Con- 
sul, the  hero  of  Arcole,  of  the  Pyramids,  of  Marengo, 
who  takes  off  his  coat  and  runs  about  like  a  boy  of 
fifteen.  Among  the  women  I  distinguish  his  three 
sisters,  Elisa,  Pauline,  and  Caroline ;  Madame  Cam- 
pan's  two  nieces,  Egle  and  Adele  Auguier  (one  of 
whom  became  the  wife  of  Marshal  Xey,  the  other 
Madame  de  Broc) ;  Madame  Coehelet ;  Sophie  de 
Barbe'-Marbois  (afterwards  the  Duchess  of  Piaeenza)  ; 
Miss  Clarke  ;  Mesdemoiselles  de  Lally-Tollendal,  Vic- 
torine  Victor,  Isabey;  Elisa  Monroe,  the  daughter  of 
the  future  President  of  the  United  States;  and  above 
all  Hortense  de  Beauharnais,  Hortense,  who  is  every- 
where the  first  in  the  games,  in  study,  and  in  society. 
Among-  the  men,  the  First  Consul's  three  brothers, 
Lucien,  Louis,  and  Jerome,  then  the  future  Prince 
Eugene,  Lauriston,  Isabey,  Didelot,  Lucay,  Kapp, 
Savary,  and  finally  Bourrienne,  who  thus  describes 
the  merrymaking :  " The  game  begins,  and  two  lines 
of  prisoners  start  from  the  two  sides,  but  the  number 
is  equal  and  the  victory  uncertain;  it  is  the  moment 
for  a  bold  stroke,  the  guard  is  about  to  yield.      Bona- 


82  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

parte  springs  forward  with  most  eager  activity,  and 
chases  Hortense ;  she  dodges  him  most  actively,  but 
he  is  close  behind,  and  about  to  catch  her,  when  his 
foot  trips  on  a  root  hidden  in  the  grass,  and  he  falls 
at  full  length  on  the  battle-field  ;  all  utter  a  cry,  but 
Bonaparte  gets  up  laughing,  and  surrenders  himself 
to  the  victors."  Bourrienne  adds  that  almost  always 
unexpected  falls  would  stop  the  illustrious  player  in 
the  midst  of  his  triumph. 

Is  not  this  a  miniature  representation  of  what  was 
to  happen  to  him  afterwards  in  more  serious  matters  ? 
Unexpected  falls  at  the  moment  of  triumph,  is  not 
that  Napoleon's  destiny  ?  But  the  falls  at  prisoners' 
base  are  attended  only  with  innocent  pleasantry, 
while  those  of  the  successful  general  will  be  followed 
by  deep  anathemas.  "  Then  came  the  exchange  of 
prisoners,  which  was  always  the  source  of  hot  dis- 
pute ;  Hortense  was  always  considered  equal  to  two, 
for  her  boldness  knew  no  bounds.  In  point  of  fact, 
these  differences  formed  the  only  aristocracy  at  the 
Malmaison."  But  soon  the  progress  of  etiquette 
interrupted  these  sports,  which  were  thought  too 
democratic ;  tumbles  on  the  grass  seemed  to  lower 
the  dignity  of  the  head  of  a  state,  and  one  was  averse 
to  thinking  that  the  First  Consul  could  be  captured 
by  his  aides-de-camp.  The  games  continued  in  the 
summer  of  1801,  but  in  1802  they  stopped;  they 
disappeared,  like  many  other  things,  with  the  repub- 
lican simplicity. 

The  game  finished,  they  would  walk  in  the  park, 


MALMAISON    IN    ISOO.  So 


enjoying  the  cool  evening  air.  In  the  moonlight, 
beneath  the  huge  trees,  the  women,  in  their  white 
dresses,  resembled  graceful  phantoms.  Nothing 
pleased  Bonaparte  more  than  the  sight  of  a  pretty 
woman,  wearing  gracefully  a  Avhite  dress ;  and  Jose- 
phine, knowing  this,  almost  always  wore  dresses  of 
white  India  muslin.  Later  they  would  return  to  the 
house,  and  in  the  ground-floor  rooms  the  First  Con- 
sul used  to  display  his  marvellous  talent  as  a  talker. 
The  lie  volution,  philosophy,  the  East,  were  his  favor- 
ite subjects.  His  emphatic  manner,  his  highly  im- 
aginative language,  his  novel  and  bold  ideas,  which 
were  always  original  and  poetical,  aroused  interest, 
surprise,  and  admiration.  As  for  Josephine,  her 
mind  was  nothing  extraordinary,  but  no  one  under- 
stood  better  than  she  did  how  to  do  the  honors  of  a 
drawing-room.  Bourrienne  said  of  her,  "  I  have 
never  seen  a  woman  carry  into  society  such  an  equa- 
ble character,  or  such  a  spirit  of  kindness,  which  is 
the  essential  quality  of  an  amiable  character." 

At  that  time  Josephine  was  rejoicing  in  her  happi- 
ness. She  did  not  yet  see  the  vision  of  divorce  ris- 
ing before  her,  she  no  longer  gave  Bonaparte  any 
excuse  for  jealousy,  she  rather  treated  him  with  the 
tenderest,  most  affectionate  solicitude.  At  Malmai- 
son  she  was  really  happy,  for  there  she  led  a  lite 
after  her  own  heart.  No  palace,  however  splendid, 
could  appear  to  her  preferable  to  this  simple  country- 
house.  Yet  she  was  uneasy ;  and  while  she  was  en- 
joying  tins    agreeable    leisure,    plots    were    weaving 


84  THE   WIFE   OF  THE  FIBKT  CONSUL. 

against  her  husband's  life.  When  she  was  expecting 
his  arrival  she  would  start  and  tremble  at  the  slight- 
est sound.  In  1800  the  neighborhood  of  Malmaison 
was  not  secure.  People  coming  from  Paris  were 
often  fearful  of  attack  from  thieves  hidden  in  the 
quarries  between  Chant  du  Coq  and  Nanterre.  But 
there  was  no  attempt  at  Malmaison;  Paris  was  the 
scene  of  Ceracchi's  conspiracy  and  of  the  explosion 
of  the  infernal  machine,  before  the  end  of  the  year 
1800,  which  had  begun  so  brilliantly  and  happily. 


VII. 


THE  INFERNAL   MACHINE. 


THE  extreme  partisans  on  both  sides  who  had  at 
first  hoped  that  Bonaparte  would  be  their  man, 
and  who  saw  him  working  for  himself  alone,  were 
exasperated  by  their  disappointment  and  staked  their 
last  hope  on  crime.  Not  being  able  to  conquer  the 
First  Consul,  they  determined  to  kill  him.  Thus  a 
twofold  and  permanent  conspiracy,  —  that  of  the  Red 
Terror  and  that  of  the  White  Terror.  The  fierce  revo- 
lutionaries, who  had  never  forgotten  the  passions  and 
hatred  of  1793,  used  to  meet  in  secret  and,  with  fierce 
imprecations,  swear  that  he,  whom  they  called  the 
tyrant,  should  die.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Royalists 
in  the  pay  of  England  used  its  money  to  hire  a  real 
legion  of  thieves  and  assassins.  The  famous  Georges 
Cadoudal,  an  irreconcilable  Chouan,  from  his  myste- 
rious retreat  at  Morbihan  used  to  direct  the  bands  of 
highwaymen  who  stopped  the  stage-coaches  on  every 
road,  and  he  sent  to  Paris  bravos  to  kill  the  First 
Consul.  There  was  from  that  moment  a  perpetual 
struggle  between  the  police  and  the  conspirators, 
with  new  suspicions,  new  denunciations,  new  fears. 

85 


86  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FI11ST  CONSUL. 

Bonaparte  was  continually  surrounded  by  ambushes, 
and,  tired  and  impatient  at  the  numberless  reports 
which  exposed  a  new  peril  at  every  step,  he  was 
sometimes  tempted  not  to  read  them,  but  to  trust 
quietly  to  the  grace  of  Providence.  Sometimes  the 
plan  was  to  stab  him,  at  another  to  shoot  him  with  a 
gun  or  a  pistol ;  sometimes  to  kill  him  at  the  theatre, 
again  to  abduct  him  between  Paris  and  Malmaison. 
Josephine,  who  was  very  timid  and  impressionable, 
lived  in  a  continual  state  of  alarm.  She  thought  she 
saw  a  snare  in  every  clump  of  trees,  an  assassin  at 
every  turn  of  the  road.  Malmaison  seemed  to  her  a 
nest  threatened  by  vultures. 

First,  there  was  the  conspiracy  of  Ceracchi  and 
Arena.  Ceracchi,  a  Roman  and  a  fanatical  Republi- 
can, could  not  forgive  the  First  Consul  for  protecting 
the  Pope.  Arena  Avas  a  Corsican,  the  brother  of  one 
of  the  members  of  the  Council  who,  on  the  19th 
Brumaire,  escaped  through  the  windows  of  the 
orange-house  at  Saint  Cloud.  The  two  men  had  for 
accomplices  Demerville,  a  former  clerk  of  the  Com- 
mittee of  Public  Safety ;  Topino-Lebrun,  a  painter,  a 
pupil  of  David ;  and  a  certain  number  of  Italian  refu- 
gees who  desired  a  republic  in  both  Rome  and  Paris. 
They  determined  to  assassinate  the  First  Consul  at 
the  opera,  where  it  was  announced  that  he  would  be 
present  October  10,  1800.  But  the  police  got  wind 
of  the  plot,  and  such  precautions  were  taken  that 
Bonaparte  thought  that  he  could  go  to  the  perform- 
ance  without    danger.       Before   starting  from   the 


THE  INFERNAL  MACHINE.  87 

Tuileries,  at  tlie  moment  when,  after  dinner,  Jose- 
phine was  dressing,  Bessieres  entered  \vitli  Eugene  de 
Beanharnais.  He  went  up  to  them  and  said,  smiling, 
"  Well,  you  don't  know  that  they  want  to  assassinate 
me  this  evening  at  the  opera."  Eugene  and  Bes- 
sieres exclaimed  with  horror,  and  at  the  same  time 
expressed  their  surprise  that  he  persisted  in  going  to 
the  performance.  "Calm  yourselves,"  he  said;  "the 
police  have  taken  all  the  necessary  precautions." 
Bessieres,  who  was  in  command  of  the  cavalry  of  the 
guard,  ordered  Eugene  de  Beauharnais  to  start  at 
once  for  the  Opera-house  with  a  picket  guard,  and  to 
protect  the  First  Consul.  When  he  reached  the 
Opera-house,  Eugene  made  half  his  men  dismount, 
and  after  giving  his  orders  to  the  rest,  entered  the 
building,  fifty  paces  in  front  of  Bonaparte,  and  him- 
self preceded  by  his  men,  thus  making  the  people  in 
the  passage-way  think  that  he  was  the  First  Consul. 
Suddenly  he  halted  his  men,  faced  them  in  two  lines, 
stepped  aside,  and  Bonaparte  passed  quietly  through 
the  double  line  into  his  box.  A  few  minutes  later 
Ceracchi  and  Arena  were  arrested  in  the  house.  This 
attempt  had  failed,  but  it.  was  soon  followed  by 
another  and  a  more  formidable  one. 

This  time  the  Republicans  were  not  concerned  with 
it;  it  was  a  Royalist  conspiracy,  organized  by  three 
cut-throats  of  Georges  Cadoudal,  named  St.  Rojant, 
Limoelan,  and  Carbon.  The  first-named  of  these  had 
acquired,  as  a  naval  officer,  some  familiarity  with 
artillery,  and  he  was.  about   to  put  it  to  a  terrible  use. 


88  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

One  Chevalier,  a  former  workman  in  the  arsenals 
under  the  Convention,  was  arrested  when  working 
at  a  machine  which  was  doubtless  intended  for  an 
attempt  on  the  First  Consul's  life ;  it  consisted  of  a 
barrel  of  powder  and  grape-shot,  to  which  was  fas- 
tened a  gun-barrel.  This  implement  of  destruction 
gave  St.  Re*jant  his  idea  of  the  famous  infernal  ma- 
chine. He  confided  his  secret  only  to  his  two  accom- 
plices, and,  evading  the  suspicions  of  Fouch^'s  police, 
he  wove  with  terrible  skill  the  threads  of  his  con- 
spiracy. 

Whenever  the  First  Consul  drove  out  from  the 
Tuileries,  towards  the  rue  de  Richelieu  and  the 
boulevards,  he  always  took  the  rue  Saint  Nicaise,  a 
long,  narrow  street,  no  longer  existing ;  it  started 
from  the  rue  des  Orties,  which  ran  along  the  quay  of 
the  Louvre,  and  continued  at  the  other  side  of  the 
Place  du  Carrousel  until  it  reached  the  rue  Saint 
Honore",  to  the  left  of  the  rue  Richelieu,  in  which 
stood  the  Opera-house.  St.  Recant  chose  the  rue 
Saint  Nicaise  for  the  execution  of  his  plan.  Then  he 
hired  a  stable,  calling  himself  a  pedler,  and  in  it  he 
put  a  horse  and  cart,  —  a  cart  which  was  destined 
to  be  the  infernal  machine.  He  calculated  the  time 
which  the  First  Consul's  carriage  would  take  to  go 
from  the  Tuileries  to  this  place,  and  arranged  to  have 
the  machine  explode  at  the  moment  determined. 
He  knew  that  Bonaparte  was  going  to  the  Opera- 
house  the  8d  Nivose  (December  24,  1800),  on  Christ- 
mas Eve,  to  hear  the  first  performance  of  an  oratorio 


THE  INFEBNAL  MACHINE.  89 

of  Haydn,  and  he  chose  this  day  for  his  crime.  The 
machine  -was  shaped  like  a  cart,  and  it  contained  a 
barrel  of  powder.  St.  Rdjant  placed  it  in  front  of 
the  house,  where  the  First  Consul  would  have  to  pass, 
and  he  was  brutal  enough  to  have  the  horse  held  by 
a  young  girl  only  fifteen  years  old,  who  might  have 
been  killed  by  the  explosion.  He  arranged  to  receive 
word  from  his  two  accomplices  of  the  moment  when 
the  carriage  of  the  First  Consul  would  arrive,  then 
he  would  start  the  fire  in  the  barrel  and  take  the 
necessary  precautions  for  his  own  safety.  The  police 
were  in  absolute  ignorance  of  the  conspiracy,  and  the 
three  wretches  fancied  themselves  sure  of  success. 

Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  the  Opera-house 
as  it  appeared  in  the  evening  of  the  3d  Nivose. 
Haydn  is  the  fashionable  composer,  and  every  one  is 
talking  about  his  oratorio,  "The  Creation."  It  is 
Garat,  the  unrivalled  Garat,  the  modern  Orpheus, 
music  made  man,  who  with  Madame  Walbonne  and 
Madame  Branclm,  two  excellent  singers,  is  to  bring 
out  the  new  oratorio.  The  orchestra  is  larger  than 
usual ;  the  choruses  have  been  doubled,  those  of  the 
Thdatre  Feydeau  having  been  added  to  those  belong- 
ing to  the  opera.  The  hall  is  as  bright  as  day. 
Every  place  has  been  taken  for  this  performance,  to 
which  all  the  officials,  all  the  people  of  fashion,  and 
all  the  artists  mean  to  come.  The  women  are  in  full 
dress,  and  all  the  fashionable  beauties  take  good  care 
not  to  miss  such  a  festivity.  The  oratorio  is  about 
to  begin;  tin.'  musicians  are  tuning  their  instruments 


90  THE   WIFE  OF  TIIE  FIBST  CONSUL. 

amid  the  hum  of  the  crowd  which  always  precedes 
the  first  performance  of  a  long-expected  piece.  Al- 
ready people  are  turning  their  opera-glasses  towards 
the  distinguished  people.  It  is  known  that  the  First 
Consul  and  Madame  Bonaparte  mean  to  come,  and 
that  is  an  additional  attraction. 

Meanwhile  what  is  going  on  at  the  Tuileries? 
Josephine,  Hortense,  and  Madame  Murat  were  very 
anxious  to  go  to  the  theatre,  and  to  reach  it  in  good 
season  so  as  not  to  lose  a  note  of  the  oratorio.  But 
Bonaparte  was  less  eager  for  this  pleasure ;  he  had 
been  working  hard  all  day,  and  worn  out,  he  had 
just  fallen  asleep  on  a  sofa.  He  was  awakened  with 
difficulty,  and  at  last  agreed  to  go  to  the  Opera-house. 
His  hat  and  sword  were  brought,  and  he  got  into  the 
first  carriage  with  Lannes,  Bessieres,  and  his  aide 
Lebrun.  An  escort  of  mounted  grenadiers  follows 
him.  Josephine  was  to  take  the  second  carriage  with 
Hortense,  Madame  Murat,  and  Rapp.  A  trifling 
incident,  to  which  perhaps  these  four  persons  owed 
their  preservation,  delayed  their  departure  for  a  few 
moments.  Josephine  was  going  to  wear  for  the 
first  time  a  magnificent  shawl  which  she  had  received 
from  Constantinople  ;  she  had  thrown  it  on  her  shoul- 
ders, when  Rapp  said  to  her  in  an  outburst  of  frank- 
ness, "Let  me  make  a  suggestion,  madam;  you  have 
not  put  on  your  shawl  as  becomingly  as  usual." 
Josephine  then  asked  Rapp  to  fold  it  into  the  shape 
that  Egyptian  women  wore  it,  and  while  he  is  doing 
this  they  heard  the  First  Consul's  carriage  driving 


THE   INFERNAL   MACHINE.  01 

away.     "  Hurry,  sister,"  said  Madame  Murat,  impa- 
tiently ;  "  there's  Bonaparte  going." 

The  three  went  down  the  staircase  of  the  Pavilion 
of  Flora  and  got  into  the  carriage.  Josephine  and 
Madame  Murat  took  the  back  seat,  and  Hortense 
and  Rapp  the  other.  They  were  going  through  the 
Carrousel,  and  the  First  Consul  was  already  in  the 
rue  Saint  Nicaise,  when  a  loud  explosion  was  heard. 
Afterwards,  at  Saint  Helena,  he  recounted  how,  hav- 
ing left  the  Tuileries  half-asleep,  he  had  dozed  off 
again,  and  he  suddenly  opened  his  eyes,  dreaming 
that  he  was  drowning  in  the  Tagliamento.  At  the 
time  of  his  first  campaign  in  Italy  he  had  insisted  on 
crossing  this  stream  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  hav- 
ing no  notion  how  deep  it  was,  and  he  tried  to  drive 
throughout  in  his  carriage,  with  an  escort  of  men 
carrying  poles  and  torches.  lie  came  near  paying 
very  dear  for  his  imprudence;  his  horses  lost  their 
footing,  and  he  narrowly  escaped  being  ingulfed. 
The  memory  of  this  incident  was  haunting  his 
dream  when  the  infernal  machine  exploded  with  a 
tremendous  report.  Lannes  and  Bessieres,  his  com- 
panions, were  very  anxious  to  stop.  "To  the  opera," 
Bonaparte  shouted ;  and  the  coachman,  who  was 
drunk,  and  thought  the  explosion  was  a  salvo  of 
artillery  fired  in  honor  of  his  master,  and  did  not 
know  until  the  next  day  what  had  happened,  con- 
tinued on  his  way  at  full  speed.  In  a  moment  the 
carriage  readied  the  door  of  the  Opera-house  ;  and 
the  First  Consul  entered  his  box  without  a  sum  of 


92  THE   WIFE   OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

emotion.  Not  one  of  the  spectators  had  any  idea  of 
what  had  just  happened.  The  performance  went  on. 
To  be  sure,  a  faint  noise  had  been  heard  above  the 
music,  but  it  had  aroused  no  anxiety.  But  Junot 
had  said,  "What  a  singular  hour  to  be  firing  can- 
non ! " 

What  had  become  of  Josephine,  Hortense,  and 
Madame  Murat  ?  Were  they  hurt  ?  Bonaparte  did 
not  know.  At  the  moment  of  the  explosion  they 
screamed  with  terror.  Hortense  was  slightly  cut  in 
the  arm  by  a  piece  of  glass  when  the  carriage-win- 
dows were  broken  by  the  concussion,  and  Josephine 
nearly  fainted.  Rapp  got  out  to  see  if  the  First 
Consul  was  safe  and  sound.  He  made  his  way 
through  the  corpses  and  ruins  in  the  rue  Saint 
Nicaise  to  the  Opera-house.  Meanwhile  Josephine's 
carriage  went  on  by  another  street,  and  the  three 
women  arrived  at  the  theatre.  They  entered  the 
First  Consul's  box,  which  was  to  the  right  of  the 
stage,  between  the  two  columns  which  separated  the 
balcony  from  the  stage  boxes.  Josephine  was  trem- 
bling with  emotion,  and  Hortense  had  wrapped  a 
handkerchief  about  her  arm.  Although  near  her 
confinement,  Madame  Murat  remained  impassible, 
with  all  her  brother's  firmness.  When  Bonaparte 
saw  his  wife,  his  sister,  and  his  step-daughter,  he 
greeted  them  with  a  smile,  then  he  asked  for  a  pro- 
gramme, and  continued  to  look  at  the  audience  with 
imperturbable  calmness. 

Suddenly  the  news  of  the  attempt  spread  through 


THE  INFERNAL   MACHINE.  D3 

the  hall.  The  Prefect  of  Police  brought  all  the 
details  that  he  could  pick  up :  more  than  fifteen 
persons  killed,  more  severely  wounded;  forty  houses 
seriously  damaged;  the  First  Consul  and  his  wife 
saved  by  a  miracle.  At  that  moment,  as  if  moved  by 
an  electric  current,  immense  applause  arose  from  the 
pit,  the  orchestra,  the  amphitheatre,  and  the  boxes. 
All  eyes  were  turned  towards  Bonaparte ;  every  hand 
was  clapping.  It  was  a  strange  mingling  of  indigna- 
tion and  enthusiasm,  of  wrath  and  joy,  of  hate  of  the 
criminals  and  of  love  for  the  man  of  destiny  who  had 
just  escaped  their  machinations. 

The  First  Consul  did  not  stay  long  at  the  theatre. 
On  his  return  to  the  Tuileries  he  found  many  offi- 
cials, who  had  gone  there  to  congratulate  him.  Then 
his  anger,  which  he  had  hitherto  restrained  with  diffi- 
culty, broke  out.  "It's  the  work  of  the  Jacobins!" 
he  exclaimed.  "It's  the  Jacobins  who  tried  to  assas- 
sinate me.  There  are  no  priests,  no  nobles,  no  Chouans, 
in  this  thing.  It's  the  men  of  September,  the  rascals 
covered  with  mud,  who  are  in  open  revolt,  in  contin- 
ual conspiracy,  in  solid  line  against  every  govern- 
ment that  has  established  itself.  Not  three  montlw 
ago  you  saw  Ccracchi,  .Arena,  Topino-Lebrun,  De- 
merville,  try  to  assassinate  me.  Well,  this  is  the 
same  thing.  They  are  the  blood-drinkers  of  Septem- 
ber, the  assassins  of  Versailles,  the  brigands  of  the 
31st  of  May,  the  conspirators  of  Prairial,  the  authors 
of  all  the  crimes  against  the  governments.  If  they 
can't   be   chained    up,    they    must   be    crushed.     Wu 


94  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

must  clean  France  of  these  disgusting  dregs;  we 
must  have  no  pity  on  such  rascals ! "  Bourrienne, 
who  recounts  this  scene,  adds,  "  One  must  have  seen 
Bonaparte's  animated  face,  his  rare  but  impressive 
gestures,  have  heard  the  sound  of  his  voice,  to  get 
any  idea  of  the  wrath  with  which  he  uttered  these 
words." 

For  several  days  the  First  Consul  maintained  that 
it  must  be  the  Jacobins  who  were  at  the  root  of  this 
crime  ;  the  evidence  alone  convinced  him  that  it  was 
the  work  of  the  Royalists.  Both  parties,  however, 
were  pursued  indiscriminately ;  and  although  in  the 
conspiracy  of  Ceracchi  and  his  accomplices  there 
was  no  overt  act,  they  all  were  sent  to  the  scaffold, 
like  the  makers  of  the  infernal  machine  which  had 
made  so  many  victims.  Public  indignation  did  not 
distinguish  between  the  criminals  ;  punishment,  even 
if  excessive,  was  demanded.  The  men  of  the  old 
regime  said  that  if  Bonaparte  were  dead,  the  guillo- 
tines of  1793  would  be  set  to  work  again  at  once ; 
and  the  friends  of  the  new  ideas  imagined  that  he 
alone  prevented  the  triumph  of  the  counter-revolu- 
tion and  of  the  foreigners.  Hence  there  was  general 
joy.  For  many  days  the  attempt  was  the  sole  subject 
of  conversation.  The  Parisians  crowded  to  look  at 
the  place  of  the  disaster,  at  the  pieces  of  chimneys, 
bricks,  tiles,  and  slate ;  and  then,  at  the  sight  of  the 
ruins,  they  denounced  the  men  who  had  done  this 
thing.  The  day  after  the  explosion  people  gathered 
in  a  mass  from  the  gates  of  the  Louvre,  well  into  the 


TU  K  IXFEliSAL  MAC  HIM-:.  (jf) 

courtyard  of  the  Tuileries ;  and  when  the  band  of 
the  Consular  Guard  began  to  play  the  celebrated  air, 
"  Where  is  One  better  off  than  in  the  Bosom  of  One's 
Family  ?  "  frantic  applause  greeted  the  First  Consul. 
Fervent  gratitude  was  expressed  for  the  coachman, 
who,  the  rumor  ran,  had  saved  his  life  by  his  skill. 
Three  or  four  hundred  cab-drivers  gave  him  a  dinner, 
for  he  had  become  the  hero  of  their  profession.  For 
a  long  time  there  was  sung  in  the  streets  a  song,  of 
which  numberless  copies  were  printed,  containing 
these  crude  couplets:  — 

An  infernal  machine 

Of  new  invention, 

By  its  explosion 

Wrought  unheard-of  devastation, 

Overthrowing  all  about  it, 

Men  and  houses. 

The  Consul  in  his  carriage 
At  that  moment  was  passing; 
He  was  going  to  the  opera. 
He  it  was,  for  certain, 
That  they  tried  to  kill; 
But  it  was  a  vain  attempt. 

The  swiftness  of  his  horses 

Had  forestalled  the  blow; 

But,  suddenly  stopping, 

He  hastens  to  make  enquiries. 

Without  fearing  this  black  design, 

He  pursued  his  way. 

His  wife,  all  in  tears, 
Wishes  to  share  his  danger. 


90  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

But  the}'  come  and  reassure 
About  the  horrible  uproar, 
Saying  to  her,  "  He  has  got  by ; 
The  Consul  is  not  wounded." 

The  incident  of  the  infernal  machine  made  a  deep 
impression  on  Josephine,  not  merely  by  the  horrid 
nature  of  the  attempt,  but  still  more  from  fear  of  the 
consequences  it  might  entail.  One  would  have  said 
that  by  the  light  of  this  fatal  flame,  at  the  sound  of 
this  explosion,  she  had  seen  the  apparition  of  what 
she  dreaded  most  —  divorce.  Her  enemies  were  now, 
in  fact,  to  take  the  occasion  of  this  plot  to  advance 
their  pretended  ideas  of  what  was  needed  for  the 
public  safety,  the  national  security,  and  the  future  of 
the  country,  for  the  advantage  of  the  supporters  of 
hereditary  succession.  Napoleon's  brothers,  who  had 
always  been  hostile  to  Josephine,  were  already  trying 
so  to  mould  public  opinion  that  the  First  Consul, 
having  become  almost  a  sovereign,  should  be  obliged 
to  divorce  his  barren  wife ;  and  Lucien,  who  had  so 
often  and  so  ostentatiously  declared  his  republican 
faith,  was  now,  under  the  Republic,  going  to  start 
the  discussion  of  ;i  dynasty.  Josephine  already  saw 
the  misery  and  anguish,  for  her  husband  as  well  as 
for  herself,  which  were  poisoning  destinies  apparently 
the  most  enviable.  When  she  saw  this  officer  of  for- 
tune, this  Corsican,  absolutely  six  years  earlier,  and 
now  by  means  of  marvellous  events,  the  equal  of  the 
highest  potentates,  yet  never  contented,  and  always 
menaced,  she  might  have  well  meditated  these  words 


THE   TNFEHXAL   MACHINE.  97 


of  the  "Imitation  of  Christ,"  a  book  on  which  his- 
tory throws  light  and  which  throws  a  light  on  his- 
tory :  w*  Men  say  to  the  weak,  What  a  happy  life  this 
man  leads!  TIow  rich  he  is!  How  great!  How 
powerful !  But  consider  heavenly  joys,  and  you  will 
see  that  all  these  temporal  advantages  are  nothing, 
that  they  are  not  stable,  that  they  are  rather  a  bur- 
den, because  no  one  can  possess  thein  without  fear 
and  uneasiness." 


VIII. 

PARISIAN   SOCIETY   IN   1801. 

IN  general,  unsuccessful  conspiracies  have  no  other 
effect  than  to  consolidate  the  powers  they  at- 
tempted to  destroy.  The  main  result  of  the  infernal 
machine  was  to  add  to  the  prestige  of  the  First  Con- 
sul, and  to  give  him  a  pretext  to  smite  his  enemies, 
white  or  red.  A  few  weeks  later,  the  peace  of  Lune*- 
ville  filled  the  public  with  joy.  The  Empire  of  Ger- 
many recognized  the  natural  boundaries  of  Republi- 
can France,  and  the  existence  of  the  Batavian,  Hel- 
vetic, Ligurian,  and  Cisalpine  Republics.  The  war- 
like nation  had  become  peaceful ;  after  dreaming  of 
nothing  but  victories,  it  was  dreaming  of  nothing 
but  treaties.  Diplomacy,  from  a  thing  despised, 
became  the  fashion,  like  many  other  old-fashioned 
things ;  foreigners,  recently  abhorred,  were  received 
with  every  attention,  and  from  all  parts  of  Europe 
they  hastened  to  Paris  as  the  centre  of  elegance  and 
pleasure.  Foreigners  of  distinction  made  no  secret 
of  their  surprise.  What !  this  superb  city,  this  mag- 
nificent capital,  is  the  spot  which  the  dmigrds  said 
was  a  savage  den,  a  brigand's   cavern!     This    Head 


PAllISIAy    SOCIETY    IS   1801.  (J'.» 


of  the  State  is  the  man  they  called  an  ogre,  a  veteran, 
a  bandit!  This  brilliant  and  witty  society  is  what 
the  men  of  Coblenz  called  the  leavings  of  the  galleys 
and  the  slums !  They  were  astounded  at  the  wild 
exaggerations  of  partisans  when  they  saw  in  amiable, 
gracious,  hospitable  France,  drawing-rooms  worthy  of 
the  old  regime,  and  a  Republican  court  which  in  splen- 
dor surpassed  many  courts  of  powerful  kings.  As 
General  de  Se*gur  said,  "  The  new  society  was  more 
attractive  to  the  foreigners  than  the  old.  And  in  fact, 
so  varied  was  its  composition,  that  it  offered  more 
liberty,  variety,  and  originality,  and  yet  with  no  real 
loss  of  the  urbanity  and  desire  to  please  which  the 
French  character  and  the  example  of  the  old  court 
had  spread  among  all  the  ranks  of  the  cultivated 
and  intelligent  middle  classes."  No  one  thought 
any  more  about  the  guillotines,  or  red  caps,  or  of  the 
"Marseillaise,"  or  asked  of  impure  blood  to  moisten 
our  furrows.  The  god  of  battles  appeared  bearing 
an  olive-branch.  The  officers  tried  to  pass  for  men 
of  society.  Balls  took  the  place  of  the  bivouac. 
The  young  officers  of  even  the  lowest  birth  imitated 
the  manners  and  speech  of  the  young  noblemen  of 
the  Versailles  court.  Bonaparte  said  of  his  military 
companions,  "  What  supports  them  is  the  idea  they 
have  that  they  have  taken  the  place  of  the  old  nobil- 
ity." The  Marquis  Colbert  de  Chabanais,  in  his  in- 
teresting memoirs  of  his  grandfather.  General  Colbert, 
said  very  truly:  "The  society  which  was  rising  at 
that  time  was  animated  by  but  one  thought,   to  re- 


100  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

place  the  old  nobles  ;  and  in  the  reaction  against  the 
manners  of  the  Revolution,  every  one  was  trying  to 
recover  the  tone,  the  ways,  the  dress  of  the  old 
regime.  The  Jacobin,  who  had  been  most  bitter 
against  certain  ways  of  dressing  as  the  insignia  of 
an  aristocracy,  was  now  the  first  to  adopt  them,  and 
as  anxious  to  wear  silk  stockings  as  he  was  later  to 
seize  the  titles  once  rejected  and  scornfully  pro- 
scribed." 

It  is  possible  to  see  a  sort  of  monarchical  advance 
from  the  beginning  of  the  Consulate  to  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Empire.  Every  day  there  was  a  step 
backwards  in  habits,  fashions,  and  institutions.  The 
Tuileries  grew  more  and  more  like  a  royal  palace. 
The  Faubourg  Saint  Germain  filled  up.  The  Repub- 
lican phraseology  disappeared  by  official  order ;  the 
new  calendar  was  never  formally  abolished,  but  the 
old  one  gradually  reappeared,  and  Sunday  took  the 
place  of  the  decadi,  or  tenth  day.  The  church  fes- 
tivities were  celebrated.  The  giving  of  presents  on 
New  Year's  Day,  the  costumes  of  Carnival  and  Lent, 
the  masquerades  of  Shrove  Tuesday,  oratories,  the 
promenade  at  Longchamps,  Easter  eggs,  —  all  these 
things  began  to  reappear.  The  theatres  resumed 
their  former  appearance.  There  was  a  return  to 
1788.  Dinners,  balls,  festivals  of  every  sort,  sup- 
ported the  shopkeepers  of  Paris.  The  emigre's,  on 
their  return  from  exile,  began  to  accustom  themselves 
to  the  new  order  of  things.  Chateaubriand  lias  said, 
speaking   of    this   time,   "Order  began    to   reappear: 


PAIUSFAX    SOCIETY    /.V    7.SY77.  101 


the  cafe's  ;in<l  the  streets  were  deserted,  and  people 
staved  at  home;  scattered  families  were  reunited; 
they  gathered  the  fragments  of  their  inheritance,  as 
the  troops  assemble  after  a  battle  and  find  out  how 
many  are  lost."  The  melancholy  author  of  "  Rene  " 
at  last  discovered  the  charms  of  consular  France 
which  at  first  had  tilled  him  with  horror.  "  Gradu- 
ally," he  tells  us,  "I  began  to  enjoy  the  sociability 
which  is  a  characteristic  of  the  French,  the  delight- 
ful intercourse,  the  swift  and  easy  exchange  of  intel- 
ligence, the  absence  of  stiffness  and  prejudice,  the 
indifference  to  wealth  and  title,  this  natural  levelling 
of  social  distinctions,  this  equality  of  mind,  which 
makes  French  society  unrivalled  and  atones  for  our 
defects.  After  a  few  months'  residence  with  us  one 
cannot  live  anywhere  except  in  Paris." 

The  First  Consul's  three  sisters,  Madame  Elisa 
Bacciochi,  Madame  Pauline  Leclerc,  and  Madame 
Caroline  Mu rat,  were  at  the  head  of  society  and  were 
rivals  in  luxury.  The  first  had  literary  aspirations, 
and  her  intimate  friend  was  Monsieur  de  Fontanes, 
the  official  leader  of  literature.  The  second,  re- 
nowned for  her  elegance  and  her  whims  as  a  pretty 
woman,  was  a  wonderful  beauty.  The  third,  also 
handsome,  was  already  noted  for  her  ambition.  Mad- 
ame de  Stael,  by  her  wit.  knowledge,  and  eloquence, 
continued  to  be  the  queen  of  the  Parisian  drawing- 
rooms.  She  did  not  lose  courage  in  the  advances 
she  made  to  Bonaparte,  but  she  inspired  him  with  a 
sort  of  instinctive   repulsion,  as  if  he   knew  that    this 


102  THE   WIFE   OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

brave  woman's  soul  would  oppose  his  power.  Mad- 
ame Rdcamier  aroused  a  more  and  more  general 
enthusiasm.  Her  husband  had  bought  the  Necker 
mansion  in  the  rue  Mont  Blanc,  where  she  gave 
grand  parties.  In  summer  she  installed  herself  close 
by  Paris,  in  the  Castle  of  Clichy,  which  enabled  her 
of  an  evening  to  go  to  the  Opera  or  to  the  The'atre 
Frangais.  After  the  performance,  she  would  drive 
out  to  the  country.  She  was  not  exclusive  in  her 
friendship,  and  she  gathered  about  her,  besides  men 
of  letters  like  La  Harpe,  Lemontey,  and  Legouve", 
men  of  all  parties  who  must  have  been  astonished  at 
finding  themselves  in  the  same  company :  thus  men 
of  the  old  court,  like  the  Duke  of  Guignes,  M. 
de  Narbonne,  Christian  of  Lamoignon,  Adrien  and 
Mathieu  de  Montmorency;  and  people  of  the  new 
regime,  like  Lucien  and  Joseph  Bonaparte ;  members 
of  the  Convention,  like  Barrere  and  Fouchd ;  and 
revolutionary  generals,  like  Mass£na,  Moreau,  and 
Bernadotte. 

Nor  were  the  arts  forgotten.  Garat  the  singer 
aroused  the  most  enthusiastic  admiration.  He  was 
called  the  modern  Orpheus,  and  wherever  he  sang 
there  was  always  to  be  seen  in  the  front  row,  watch- 
ing his  every  movement,  languishing,  weeping,  sob- 
bing, even  fainting  from  rapture,  a  lady  of  distinction, 
a  foreigner,  who  had  been  prominent  in  Paris  during 
the  last  days  of  the  Monarchy,  and  who  had  just 
returned  to  the  capital.  In  his  interesting  book  about 
her,  the  bibliophile  Jacob  describes  her  as  more  than 


PA  It  I  SI  AX    SOCIETY   IX    1801.  lOo 

once,  before  three  or  four  hundred  spectators,  throw- 
ing herself  into  the  enchanter's  arms  and  falling  at 
his  feet  as  if  to  worship  him.  This  lady  was  the 
Baroness  de  Kriidener,  the  future  prophetess,  the 
future  spiritual  guardian  of  the  Emperor  Alexander. 
Who  would  have  thought,  on  seeing  her  adoring 
Garat,  that  she  would  become  the  soul  of  the  Holy 
Alliance,  and  Napoleon's  most  implacable  foe  ?  Like 
Madame  de  Stael,  she  made  advances  to  him  and  was 
repulsed.  The  hero  of  so  many  battles  had  occasion 
to  repent  his  indifference  to  these  two  women,  whom 
Josephine,  with  more  tact,  knew  how  to  manage.  If 
it  had  not  been  for  Madame  de  Kriidener,  probably 
the  Allies  in  1814  would  have  treated  with  the  Em- 
pire, instead  of  restoring  the  Bourbons. 

But  to  return  to  1801.  The  drawing-rooms  were 
brilliant,  the  theatres  crowded.  There  were  many 
great  actors,  of  whom  the  greatest  was  Talma,  whom 
the  First  Consul  regarded  as  a  personal  friend.  As 
Chateaubriand  puts  it,  "  What,  then,  was  Talma  ? 
Himself,  his  own  time,  and  antiquity.  He  was  pro- 
foundly and  intensely  moved  by  love  and  patriotism. 
He  had  the  fierce  inspiration,  the  savageness  of  the 
Revolution  through  which  he  had  passed.  The  terri- 
ble sights  he  had  seen  were  repeated  in  the  remote 
and  mournful  accents  of  the  choruses  of  Sophocles  and 
Euripides.  .  .  .  His  mere  entrance  on  the  stage,  the 
mere  sound  of  his  voice,  were  intensely  tragic.  His 
face  expressed  suffering  and  thought  ;  they  showed 
themselves,  too,  in  repose,  in  his  poses,  his  gestures, 


104  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

his  gait."  With  actors  of  the  highest  merit,  the 
Theatre  Frangais  soon  regained  its  old  fame.  The 
Theatre  Feydeau  was  equally  admired.  Here  sang 
the  delightful  tenor  Ellevion,  the  excellent  bass  Mar- 
tin, and  Madame  Dugazon,  who  gave  her  name  to 
parts  of  a  certain  style.  The  opera  was  the  favorite 
resort  of  the  fashionable  world,  who  made  the  boxes 
as  much  of  a  spectacle  as  the  stage.  A  company  of 
Italian  singers  had  just  taken  the  Olympic  Hall,  a 
little  theatre  in  the  rue  Chantereine,  where  prominent 
beauties  used  to  display  their  gorgeous  dresses. 

Josephine  was  very  happy  in  this  vortex  of  pleas- 
ures, in  this  life  of  the  drawing-room  and  the  theatre. 
Every  first  performance,  every  ball,  every  grand  din- 
ner, was  an  excuse  for  ordering  a  new  gown,  for 
wearing  her  jewels.  She  was  delighted  to  receive 
the  distinguished  foreigners  who  were  thronging  to 
Paris,  and  to  renew  the  habits  of  the  old  regime,  for 
which  she  was  admirably  suited. 

She  was  much  gratified  by  the  visit  to  Paris,  in 
May,  1801,  of  the  Infant  of  Parma,  Louis,  the  son  of 
a  sister  of  Marie  Antoinette,  and  of  his  wife,  a  daugh- 
ter of  Charles  IV.,  King  of  Spain.  The  treaty  of 
LuneVille  conceded  to  this  young  prince,  Tuscany, 
whicli  had  been  made  the  Kingdom  of  Etruria,  and 
before  entering  his  new  realm  he  went  to  Paris  in 
order,  as  it  were,  to  receive  his  investiture  from  the 
hands  of  Bonaparte.  Josephine  was  much  flattered 
;it  receiving,  or,  rather,  at  protecting,  the  nephew  of 
the  martyred  Queen  and  the  daughter  of  the  King  of 


PARISIAX    SOCIETY    IS    Isol.  lOo 


Spain.  Since  she  had  always  continued  to  be  a  Le- 
gitimist, even  in  the  Republican  drawing-rooms  of  the 
Directory,  she  was  enchanted  at  an  opportunity  to  be 
agreeable  to  a  Bourbon  prince,  and  it  was  especially 
at  such  a  time  that  she  congratulated  herself  on  hav- 
ing married  the  soldier  of  fortune  to  whom  she  was 
indebted  for  these  great  privileges. 

Although  tlu>  King  and  Queen  of  Etruria  were 
travelling  under  the  style  of  the  Count  and  Countess 
Leghorn,  they  were  received  with  all  the  honors  due 
to  crowned  heads.  They  were  entertained  with 
splendid  entertainments.  Bonaparte  was  more  and 
more  convinced  that,  in  spite  of  the  Revolution,  the 
French  had  always  remained  unchanged,  that  they 
liked  luxury,  titles,  show,  fine  equipages,  rich  liveries, 
decorations,  and  all  the  trinkets  which  pamper  and 
tease  human  vanity.  His  monarchical  plans  grew 
stronger,  and  possibly  lie  began  to  dream  of  the  day 
when  he  should  have  Talma,  his  favorite  actor,  play 
before  an  audience  of  kings.  The  Legitimists  were 
simple  enough  to  fancy  that  the  First  Consul  was 
working  in  their  behalf,  and  the  creation  of  the  King- 
dom of  Etruria  was  but  the  prelude  to  the  restoration 
of  the  Kingdom  of  Frame. 

Those  who  thus  imagined  were  very  ignorant  of 
Bonaparte  ;  he  hud  the  character  of  Caesar.  Doubtless 
lie  would  have  preferred  the  first  place  in  a  village 
in  the  second  in  Paris.  In  spite  of  the  hopes  of  the 
Faubourg  Saint  Cermain,  he  declined  with  scorn 
the  sword    of    the    Constable   of    France.      What    he 


106  THE   WIFE   OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

wanted  was  the  sceptre.  What  do  I  say?  One 
sceptre  was  not  enough  for  him.  He  was  inwardly 
entertained  by  the  credulity  of  the  Royalists,  and 
Josephine's  zeal  for  the  Legitimists,  far  from  influ- 
encing him,  only  made  him  smile. 

The  visit  of  the  King  and  Queen  of  Etruria  gave 
him  an  opportunity  to  test  public  opinion.  It  showed 
that  even  the  Republicans  were  not  annoyed  by  the 
sight  of  this  prince  and  princess.  Just  as  the  great 
Roman  Republic  liked  to  make  and  unmake  kings, 
so  the  French  Republic,  which  had  created  sister- 
republics,  took  a  certain  satisfaction  in  making  a 
kingdom.  Bonaparte,  who  had  some  very  aristo- 
cratic traits,  was  secretly  proud  to  appear  as  the  pro- 
tector of  a  descendant  of  Louis  XIV.  He  thought, 
and  truly,  that  the  visit  of  a  Bourbon  to  France  was 
a  striking  proof  of  growing  calmness.  Only  seven 
years  before,  Marie  Antoinette  had  laid  her  head  on 
the  block,  and  now  her  nephew  was  crossing  the  place 
of  her  execution  on  his  Avay  to  Malmaison  to  pay  his 
respects  to  the  First  Consul ! 

The  King  and  Queen  of  Etruria  entered  Paris  in 
old  carriages  of  the  time  of  Philip  V.,  drawn  by  mules 
covered  with  bells,  and  stopped  at  the  Spanish  Em- 
bassy, in  the  rue  Mont  Blanc.  The  day  after  their 
arrival  they  were  taken  to  Malmaison  by  the  Cheva- 
lier d'Azara,  the  Spanish  ambassador.  The  First 
Consul  received  them  with  military  honors,  and  re- 
turned their  visit  the  next  day. 

A  succession  of  brilliant  entertainments  was  given 


PARISIAN   SOCIETY  IN   1S01.  107 


in  honor  of  the  royal  guests.  That  of  M.  de  Talley- 
rand, then  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  in  his  castle 
of  Reuilly,  was  a  model  of  elegance  and  good  taste. 
It  was  in  summer;  the  weather  was  propitious;  na- 
ture and  art  combined  to  make  the  entertainment  a 
success.  In  the  illuminated  gardens  the  moon  and 
the  stars  rivalled  the  brilliancy  of  the  Bengal  lights. 
The  party  began  with  a  concert,  and  when  the  end 
of  the  gallery  was  opened,  there  was  disclosed  a  scene 
representing  the  place  in  front  of  the  Pitti  palace  at 
Florence.  Dancers  and  singers,  dressed  as  Tuscan 
peasants,  played  and  danced,  while  they  sang  coup- 
lets in  praise  of  their  Majesties.  An  Italian  impro- 
visator, named  Gianni,  pronounced  a  tolerably  long 
ode  in  honor  of  the  young  King,  who  was  delighted 
to  hear  his  native  tongue.  The  new  sovereign  had 
been  somewhat  chagrined  when,  on  paying  his  re- 
spects in  Italian,  the  First  Consul  had  replied  in 
French  ;  lie  then  said,  "  J/a,  in  so??ima,  siete  Italia?w, 
siete  nostra" ;  and  Bonaparte  answered  dryly,  "I  am 
a  Frenchman."  At  M.  de  Talleyrand's  the  King  and 
Queen  of  Etruria  might  have  imagined  themselves  in 
their  new  kingdom.  When  thev  went  out  into  the 
garden,  they  were  surrounded  by  a  band  of  pretty 
Tuscan  peasant  girls,  who  offered  them  flowers. 
Supper  was  served  in  the  orange-house.  The  tables 
were  placed  around  the  orange-trees,  which  rose  like 
epergnes  ;  from  the  blanches  hung  baskets  full  of 
sweetmeats.  Fireworks  and  a  ball  closed  the  enter- 
tainment. 


108  THE   WIFE   OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

The  fete  given  a  few  days  later  by  the  illustrious 
Chaptal,  at  that  time  Minister  of  the  Interior,  was  no 
less  successful.  It  took  place  in  the  Brissac  mansion, 
in  the  rue  Grenelle  Saint  Germain.  A  scene  repre- 
sented the  city  of  Florence  illuminated;  a  Tuscan 
village  had  been  built,  peasants  sang  in  chorus,  others 
recited  passages  from  Petrarch  and  Tasso.  Hidden 
musicians  played  and  sang  in  every  direction.  A 
temple  was  seen  on  the  top  of  a  little  hill,  and  there 
Apollo  and  the  Muses  celebrated  the  arts  and  glory. 
After  supper  the  company  entered  the  large  gallery, 
where  nymphs  and  shepherds  from  the  opera  danced 
quadrilles.  One  of  the  girls  gave  the  King  a  bou- 
quet which  in  his  hands,  as  if  by  magic,  took  the 
shape  of  a  crown,  holding  verses  by  the  poet  Esme- 
nard.  The  Duchess  of  Abrantes  in  her  Memoirs  de- 
scribes the  First  Consul's  enjoyment  of  the  evening. 
"  I  have  seldom  seen  him  so  much  interested  by  any- 
thing of  the  sort,  and  he  expressed  his  satisfaction 
not  only  that  evening,  but  long  afterwards.  He 
spoke  of  the  songs  and  music  from  the  concealed 
performers,  which  filled  the  gardens  as  if  by  enchant- 
ment." 

June  25,  the  anniversary  of  the  battle  of  Marengo, 
there  was  another  entertainment,  given  by  the  Min 
ister  of  War,  Berthier.  There  was  a  much-adorned 
representation  of  camp  life.  Supper  was  served  in 
the  garden  under  tents ;  bivouac  fires  lit  up  the 
groves;  panoplies  and  trophies  adorned  the  dancing- 
rooms.      Officers    in    uniform,   standing   behind    the 


PARISIAN   SOCIETY  IN   ISO!.  109 

ladies  at  table,  were  their  cupbearers.  A  balloon 
•was  sent  up  in  the  dark  night,  which,  as  it  rose,  dis- 
closed in  flame  the  name  Marengo. 

Madame  de  Montesson  also  entertained  the  King 
and  Queen  of  Etruria  at  her  house  in  rue  du  Mont 
Blanc,  next  door  to  the  Spanish  Embassy.  Charlotte 
Jeanne  BeYaud  de  la  Ilaye  de  Kiou,  Marchioness  of 
Montesson,  was  certainly  one  of  the  most  remarkable 
of  the  ladies  of  the  consular  society.  Born  in  1737, 
she  was  at  that  time  sixty-four  years  old;  a  widow 
since  1769,  she  had  made  a  morganatic  marriage  in 
1773  with  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  who  was  the  father 
of  Philippe  Egalite  and  the  grandfather  of  the  King 
Louis  Philippe ;  he  died  in  1785.  During  the  Revo- 
lution she  had  been  most  devoted  to  Louis  XVI.,  who 
treated  her  like  a  relative  when  the  number  of  his 
courtiers  was  dwindling  day  by  day.  She  was  a 
charming  woman,  well  educated,  witty,  very  polite, 
a  survival  of  the  manners  of  the  old  aristocracy. 
Being  a  great  admirer  of  the  First  Consul,  in  whom 
she  saw  the  restorer  of  society,  she  was  devoted  to 
him  and  to  his  policy.  Bonaparte,  who  was  much 
flattered  by  this  attitude  of  so  distinguished  a  woman, 
had  restored  her  property  and  was  glad  to  see  her  the 
mistress  of  a  house  which  he  regarded  as  a  model  of 
refinement  and  real  elegance'.  Whenever  she  invitee1 
Josephine  to  breakfast,  Bonaparte  urged  his  wife  to 
accept,  and  he  himself  was  often  the  guest  of  the 
widow  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  The  Marchioness  of 
Montesson's    Wednesday    dinners    were    renowned. 


110  THE   WIFE   OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

On  that  day,  in  Lent,  she  used  to  have  a  dinner  with 
meat  for  the  majority  of  her  guests,  and  one  without 
for  ecclesiastics  and  those  who  remained  faithful  to 
the  laws  of  the  Church.  All  the  old  nobility  in  Paris 
would  meet  in  her  drawing-room,  and  her  very  mag- 
nificent ball  recalled  the  most  splendid  entertainments 
of  the  Monarchy. 

At  the  The'atre  Franc,ais  there  was  a  special  per- 
formance of  the  "  CEdipe."  The  theatre  was  crowded ; 
for  nothing  could  gratify  the  Parisians  more  than  to 
see  Bonaparte  doing  the  honors  of  Paris  to  a  Bour- 
bon. When  the  actor  who  played  Philoctetes  re- 
cited this  line,  — 

I  have  made  kings ;  but  would  not  be  one, 

the  audience  turned  towards  the  box  where  the  Head 
of  the  Republic  was  sitting  with  his  royal  guest,  and 
burst  into  the  Avildest  applause.  A  few  days  later 
the  King  and  Queen  of  Etruria  left  for  their  new 
kingdom,  where  they  were  installed  by  Murat,  and 
the  Queen,  who  was  a  wise  and  intelligent  woman, 
kept  up  a  friendly  correspondence  with  Josephine, 
whose  gracious  reception  had  charmed  her. 

Hardly  had  the  young  King  left  Paris  when  after 
the  royal  festivities  came  the  Republican  holiday, 
the  14th  of  July,  the  anniversary  of  the  capture  of 
the  Bastille.  It  had  been  regarded  as  important  that 
a  Bourbon  should  not  be  present  at  this  celebration  ; 
but  there  was  nothing  very  marked  about  it.  A 
temple  of   Victory  was   built  before    the    Palace    of 


P Alt  LSI  AN   SOCIETY   IN  1S0L  Ill 

the  Corps  Legislatif,  with  a  portico  supported  by  six: 
columns  and  four  monuments,  dedicated  to  the  com- 
memoration of  Desaix,  Joubert,  lloche,  and  Kle"ber. 

In  the  middle  of  the  temple  there  was  a  piece  of 
sculpture  representing  Victory  offering  peace  to 
France.  In  the  middle  of  the  Place  de  la  Concorde 
there  was  a  column  built  in  honor  of  the  army. 

The  most  impressive  of  the  national  festivals  of 
the  year  1801  was  undoubtedly  that  of  the  18th  Bru- 
maire  (November  9).  It  was  known  as  the  Festival 
of  General  Peace.  At  this  happy  moment  every  one 
was  talking  of  universal  peace.  The  month  before, 
arrangements  had  been  made  which  settled  every 
difficulty.  The  preliminaries  of  peace  with  England 
had  been  signed  in  London,  October  1,  and  the  news, 
which  reached  Paris  two  days  later,  had  aroused 
most  unprecedented  satisfaction.  On  both  sides  of 
the  Channel  there  was  the  same  wild  enthusiasm. 
In  London  the  populace  had  unharnessed  the  horses 
from  the  carriage  of  Colonel  Lauriston,  the  First 
Consul's  aide-de-camp,  and  drew  it  with  their  own 
hands.  In  the  same  month,  treaties  or  settlements 
of  some  sort  had  been  made  by  France  with  Portu- 
gal, the  Porte,  the  regencies  of  Tunis  and  Algiers, 
with  Bavaria  and  Russia.  Joseph  Bonaparte,  who 
had  been  appointed  by  his  brother  general  peace- 
maker, and  who  had  had  the  distinction  of  signing 
the  treaty  of  peace  with  America  at  Morfontaine, 
with  Austria  at  Lune'viHe,  was  going  to  sign  the 
English  treaty  at  Amiens.     Meanwhile,  the   English 


112  THE    WIFE   OF   THE  FIBST  CONSUL. 

plenipotentiary,  Lord  Cornwallis,  reached  Paris  to 
take  part  in  the  festival  of  the  18th  Brumaire,  and 
on  that  day  his  was  the  only  carriage  allowed  to  be 
driven.  One  would  have  said  that  the  First  Consul 
had  as  strong  a  desire  for  peace  as  he  had  had  for 
war. 

The  Place  de  la  Revolution  had  become  the  Place 
de  la  Concorde.  The  18th  Brumaire,  it  was  deco- 
rated with  porticos  and  covered  with  dance-halls. 
On  the  left  bank  of  the  Seine,  between  the  Pont 
Royal  and  the  Pont  Neuf,  there  had  been  built 
a  temple  of  Commerce.  A  fleet  of  launches  and 
barges,  decorated  and  dressed  with  flags,  with  crews 
representing  the  different  nations  of  Europe,  ascended 
the  river  from  Chaillot  to  this  temple.  Scarcely 
had  they  arrived  when  songs  and  dances  in  honor  of 
peace  began.  A  balloon  was  sent  up  bearing  the 
flags  of  all  the  friendly  powers,  and  from  it  there 
started  a  parachute  which  covered  a  descending  Mer- 
cury. A  huge  theatre  had  been  put  up  in  the  Place 
de  la  Concorde.  In  it  were  enclosed  the  famous 
horses  of  Marly,  where  were  given  performances 
illustrating  the  horrors  of  war  and  the  benefits  of 
peace.  First  there  was  a  representation  of  the  bom- 
bardment of  two  cities ;  afterwards  there  appeared 
temples  dedicated  to  Peace,  to  the  Arts,  to  Industry, 
which  opened  and  disclosed  the  men  whom  the  war 
had  spared.  At  the  end  of  the  platform  of  the  Pont 
Neuf  stood  a  triumphal  arch  bearing  Bonaparte's 
name.     At  the  Salm  mansion,  now  the  Palace  of  the 


1'MUsr.lX    SOCIETY    IS    ISO!.  113 


Legion  of  Honor,  a  colossal  statue  represented  a  hero 
slieathing  his  sword  in  token  of  peace. 

Napoleon  at  Saint  Helena  once  said  in  reference  to 
this  happy  period  of  his  life  :  k>  I  really  thought  that 
the  fate  of  France,  of  Europe,  and  my  own  were  set- 
tled, and  that  there  would  be  no  more  wars.  But  the 
English  Cabinet  kindled  everything  anew,  and  to 
it  alone  Europe  owes  all  its  subsequent  troubles ; 
it  alone  is  responsible.  For  my  part,  I  had  intended 
to  devote  myself  solely  to  the  government  of  France, 
and  I  think  I  should  have  produced  wonders.  My 
fame  would  have  been  as  great,  and  I  should  have 
been  much  happier ;  I  should  have  made  a  moral 
conquest  of  Europe,  such  as  I  eame  near  making 
with  arms.  What  glory  they  have  robbed  me  of ! " 
In  1801  France  was  at  peace  and  radiant  with  joy. 
Any  one  who  would  have  predicted  the  terrible  catas- 
trophes which  were  about  to  burst  forth  within  a  few 
years  would  have  been  called  a  madman.  It  was  a 
period  of  intoxication,  of  enchantment,  the  traces  of 
which  are  preserved  in  all  the  contemporary  Memoirs. 
France  was  happy  because  it  aroused  the  envy  of  all 
the  other  powers.  Perhaps  the  most  necessary  thing 
for  its  ardent  and  impressionable  character  is  the 
gratification  of  its  pride.  Without  this  it  is  sad, 
agitated,  uneasy.  It  is  a  nation  which  cannot  endure 
mediocrity  or  misfortune.  Without  glory  it  is  out 
of  its  element. 


IX. 


MALMAISON   IN   ITS   GLORY. 

IN  the  summer  of  1801  and  the  spring  of  1802 
Malmaison  saw  its  fairest  days.  At  that  time 
Saint  Cloud  was  not  then  the  First  Consul's  country- 
seat;  Malmaison,  in  its  new  splendor,  had  no  rival. 
It  was  known  as  a  favorite  resort  of  great  men  and 
celebrated  women.  One  would  have  said  that  it  had 
an  air  of  its  own,  and  that  the  very  stones  were  con- 
scious of  their  importance.  It  was  not  a  palace,  and 
yet  it  was  something  more  than  a  castle.  It  was 
plain  that  it  would  in  time  belong  to  history,  and 
that  its  furniture  would  be  a  matter  of  interest  to 
every  one.  The  place  inspired  a  sort  of  attentive 
and  respectful  curiosity. 

Fontaine,  in  his  unpublished  manuscript  Memoirs, 
which  might  well  be  called  the  Journal  of  an  Archi- 
tect, wrote  under  date  of  December  10,  1800:  "The 
First  Consul  ought  really  to  come  to  Malmaison  only 
to  rest  and  to  forget  once  a  week  the  affairs  of  gov- 
ernment; but  in  fact  people  make  formal  calls,  min- 
isters come  out  to  report,  and  officers  to  pay  their 
respects,  and  everything  is  too  small  for  sucli  a  mul- 
114 


MALMAlSOy    IX    ITS   GLORY.  11" 


titude.  They  are  enlarging  the  stables  and  offices. 
They  have  added  to  the  park  all  the  land  lying  be- 
tween the  road,  Mademoiselle  Julien's  house,  and 
the  garden.  Trees  are  set  out  everywhere."  Great 
changes  and  improvements  were  made  in  the  park 
and  in  the  house  between  1800  and  the  summer  of 
1802.  To  the  park  was  added  the  whole  plain  sep- 
arating it  from  llueil.  The  view  was  then  bounded 
by  the  Cote  d'Or,  a  large  hill,  on  the  west,  and  by 
the  wood  Saint  Cucufa  in  the  far  southwest.  The 
park  was  divided  into  two  distinct  parts,  united  by 
gentle  slopes.  The  first  was  a  smooth,  flat  stretcli  of 
about  a  kilometre  behind  the  castle  ;  the  other  was 
more  picturesque  and  showed  greater  variet}*,  lying 
as  it  did  on  the  slope  of  a  hill.  In  the  first  was  the 
large  grove  watered  by  the  brooks  which  started 
from  the  Temple  of  Love.  These  little  streams 
wound  among  the  flower-beds  and  clumps  of  trees 
towards  a  little  lake,  into  which  they  fell  in  a  series 
of  cascades ;  another  stream  ilowed  into  the  lake 
from  the  other  side.  This  lake  lay  in  the  lower  part 
of  the  park,  surrounded  by  plane-trees  and  poplars. 
From  k  started  the  brook  which  Delille  had  sung; 
it  ran  into  the  garden  through  two  rows  of  venerable 
chestnut-trees.  On  the  right  of  the  lake  was  a  shep- 
herd's hut,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  wood  a  Swiss 
dairy. 

Josephine  did  not  like  the  French  gardens,  such  as 
Le  Notre  designed,  with  their  majestic  quincunxes, 
their   square    grass-plots,    their   clipped   yews,    their 


116  THE    WIFE   OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

shrubs  set  in  a  bed  of  Procrustes.  She  cared  only 
for  English  gardens,  which  had  been  made  fashion- 
able by  the  Prince  of  Ligne  at  Bel-(Eil ;  by  Horace 
Walpole  at  Strawberry  Hill ;  by  the  Marquis  of 
Caraman  at  Roissy.  Fontaine  wrote  about  her  as 
follows,  in  December,  1800 :  "  Madame  Bonaparte  is 
much  distressed  at  our  making  some  straight  paths. 
She  wants  everything  done  in  the  English  fashion. 
An  avenue  set  out  to  lead  straight  from  one  place  to 
another  seems  to  her  a  barbarous  infringement  of  the 
laws  of  gardening,  and  it  is  only  at  the  cost  of  the 
good  opinion  she  had  of  our  talents  that  we  have 
succeeded  in  getting  for  the  main  approach  and  for 
the  road  to  the  stables  a  dispensation  from  the  rule 
demanding  winding  ways."  Fontaine  wrote  again 
on  this  subject  in  September,  1801 :  "Our  heresy  in 
regard  to  the  present  fashion  of  gardens  has  much 
injured  us  in  Madame  Bonaparte's  estimation.  To 
speak  about  order  and  regularity  in  a  garden  was 
sheer  blasphemy.  They  wanted  nothing  but  groups, 
effects,  contrasts,  and,  above  all  things,  sentiment." 
The  park  contained  an  abundance  of  surprises  and 
contrasts :  here  was  Love,  in  his  temple ;  there  a  statue 
of  Saint  Francis  in  Capuchin  dress,  in  a  grotto ;  here 
a  colossal  Neptune,  Puget's  masterpiece,  a  Neptune 
overlooking  the  lake,  and  brandishing  his  trident 
between  two  rostral  columns  of  Serancolin  marble ; 
there,  under  a  weeping  willow,  was  a  tomb  with 
a  bas-relief  carved  by  Girardon.  Close  to  the  cas- 
tle was  a  large  and  fine   conservatory,  designed  by 


MALMAlSOy    IX   ITS   GLORY .  117 


M.  Thibaut  of  the  Institute.  It  was  lofty  enough  to 
contain  the  longest  exotic  shrubs.  In  the  middle  a 
portico,  upheld  by  two  marble  columns  with  gilded 
bases  and  capitals,  opened  into  the  drawing-room, 
whence  one  looked  out  into  a  circle  of  rare  flowers 
and  plants  spreading  on  both  sides.  Josephine,  the 
poetic  Creole,  the  pearl  of  the  Antilles,  seemed  a 
beneficent  fairy  reigning  over  this  charming  and  mys- 
terious empire. 

The  inside  of  Malmaison,  as  well  as  the  park,  had 
been  much  beautified.  The  decorations  of  the  hall, 
the  dining-room,  the  council-chamber,  the  library, 
the  billiard-room,  the  boudoir,  the  drawing-room,  the 
gallery,  left  nothing  to  be  desired.  In  September, 
1800,  the  architect  Fontaine  wrote:  "The  decora- 
tors have  finished  the  ceilings  of  the  library  and  the 
frieze  in  the  room  of  the  First  Consul,  on  the  lust 
floor,  above  the  drawing-room.  Madame  Bonaparte 
takes  a  lively  interest  in  everything  we  do.  She  is 
ordering  some  new  decorations,  and  wants  us  to 
give  our  attention  to  the  gardens,  the  waters,  the 
hot-houses,  in  short  to  everything  which  can  make 
this  place  more  agreeable,  for  she  regards  it  as  her 
own  private  property."  A  bathroom  was  put  in  the 
first  floor,  near  the  First  Consul's  room,  by  the  side 
of  the  door,  and  on  the  other  side,  a  dressing-room 
and  a  little  sleeping-room.  Two  small  staircases  were 
built,  one  leading  from  the  First  Consul's  room  to 
the  gallery  on  the  ground  floor;  the  other,  from  the 
first  floor  to  the    library    and    the    council-chamber. 


118  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIBST  CONSUL. 

"  We  are  very  sorry,"  writes  the  architect,  "  that  the 
old  shape  of  the  house  and  the  previous  changes  do 
not  let  us  place  the  First  Consul's  rooms  over  the 
library ;  as  it  is,  if  he  wishes  to  go  from  his  chamber 
to  his  study  or  to  the  council-chamber,  he  has  to 
pass  through  the  whole  width  of  the  house,  whether 
he  goes  through  the  corridor  on  the  first  floor,  or 
comes  down  into  the  gallery  and  passes  through  the 
rooms  on  the  ground  floor." 

We  cannot  leave  Fontaine's  manuscript  Memoirs 
without  citing  what  he  says  of  the  little  theatre  built 
for  amateur  performances.  "  It  is  now  some  time," 
he  wrote,  March  22,  1802,  "  since  a  love  of  theatrical 
performances  began  to  appear  in  the  household  of  the 
First  Consul.  .  .  .  We  had  made  a  sort  of  portable 
theatre  which  was  set  up  for  this  purpose  in  the 
gallery,  near  the  drawing-room.  Then  we  had  con- 
trived to  construct  a  little  hall  by  taking  a  corner  of 
one  of  the  largest  rooms  in  the  north  pavilion  on  the 
second  floor;  but  this  last  plan,  although  it  gave 
more  space,  was  less  commodious,  for  it  required  that 
the  spectators  should  leave  the  drawing-room,  go  up 
two  pairs  of  stairs,  to  sit  in  a  narrow  room  which 
was  neither  large  nor  handsome.  At  last,  the  First 
Consul  has  yielded  to  long-continued  supplications, 
and  has  commissioned  us  to  build  as  cheaply  as  pos- 
sible a  little  theatre,  entirely  isolated,  in  the  court- 
yard on  the  side  of  the  farm.  He  has  given  us  a 
month  to  do  it  in,  and  we  shall  set  to  as  soon  as  he 
lias  approved  the  cost.     Yesterday  we  made  a  plan 


MALMAISOy    IN    ITS   GL011Y.  119 


and  an  estimate,  and  gave  them  to  M.  Bourrienne 
who,  with  Madame  Hortense,  Madame  Bonaparte's 
daughter,  is  one  of  the  most  enthusiastic  actors.*' 
The  architect  promised  to  build  in  thirty  days,  for 
the  sum  of  thirty  thousand  francs,  in  the  farmyard, 
near  the  gallery  of  the  ground  floor,  a  theatre  of 
wood,  with  no  pretentions  to  monumental  solidity 
and  no  external  ornaments ;  and  he  kept  his  word. 
In  shape  it  was  polygonal,  and  it  was  covered  with 
slates.  It  held  easily  about  two  hundred  spectators. 
The  ceiling  was  decorated  with  printed  calico.  It 
contained  a  pit,  a  row  of  boxes,  a  gallery,  an  orches- 
tra, and  two  little  greenrooms.  The  floor  was  built 
above  the  ground,  to  avoid  dampness,  and  made  to 
serve  as  a  ballroom  on  occasion. 

Since  the  building  was  isolated,  a  gallery  of  can- 
vas led  to  it  from  the  ground  floor.  It  was  inaugu- 
rated May  12,  1802,  not  by  amateurs,  but  by  some 
Italian  actors,  who  gave  the  "  Serva  Padrona."  *•  The 
hall  was  very  satisfactory."  says  the  architect,  "and 
if  the  piece  played  had  been  better  adapted  to  the 
taste  of  the  spectators,  they  would  have  been  more 
amused.'' 

A  word  is  necessary  about  the  amateurs  who  used 
to  play  in  this  theatre,  and  who  might  be  called  the 
actors  in  ordinary  to  the  First  Consul.  The  Duchess 
of  Abrantes  says  in  her  Memoirs:  ••Mademoiselle  de 
Reauharnais  had  been  so  successful  at  Madame  Cam- 
pan's  in  'Esther'  and  the  other  plavs  in  which  Mes- 
ilemoiselles  Auguierand  Mademoiselle  Pannelier  also 


120  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

showed  remarkable  talent,  that  she  was  obliged  to 
appear  on  the  stage  at  Malmaison.  Eugene  de  Beau- 
harnais  acted  remarkably  well ;  I  am  not  prepossessed 
when  I  say  that  Junot  had  really  great  talents ;  M. 
Didelot  made  a  capital  Crispin.  I  got  through  my 
parts  very  tolerably,  and  General  Lauriston  made  a 
noble  Almaviva,  or  any  other  lover  in  court  dress. 
But  the  best  of  the  company  was  M.  Bourrienne  ;  he 
acted  serious  parts  to  perfection." 

This  is  the  way  Bourrienne  speaks  of  the  actors  of 
Malmaison :  "  Hortense  acted  admirably ;  Caroline 
(Madame  Murat),  only  tolerably;  Eugene,  very  well. 
Lauriston  was  a  trifle  heavy ;  Didelot,  passable,  and 
I  may  say  without  vanity,  that  I  was  not  the  worst 
in  the  company.  If  we  were  not  very  good,  it  was 
not  for  lack  of  good  advice  and  good  instructions. 
Talma  and  Michot  used  to  come  to  make  us  rehearse 
together  and  separately.  How  many  lessons  I  have 
received  from  Michot  when  walking  in  the  beautiful 
park !  And,  if  I  may  mention  it,  it  gives  me  to-day 
great  pleasure  to  return  to  these  trifles  which  are  so 
important  when  one  is  young,  and  so  marked  a  con- 
trast to  the  greater  stage  on  which  we  did  not  repre- 
sent fictitious  characters."  Bourrienne  adds  that  the 
company  owned  a  rich  collection  of  properties.  The 
First  Consul  had  given  each  one  of  the  amateur 
actors  a  collection  of  plays,  richly  bound,  and  as  the 
protector  of  the  company,  he  had  had  expensive  and 
elegant  costumes  made  for  them.  "  Bonaparte,"  con- 
tinues   Bourrienne,   "took   great   pleasure  in   these 


MALMAISON   IN  JT.SI   GLORY.  121 

performances ;  he  liked  to  see  comedies  acted  by  his 
friends ;  sometimes  he  even  complimented  us.  Al- 
though I  liked  it  as  much  as  the  others,  I  was  obliged 
to  tell  him  more  than  once  that  my  occupation  left 
me  very  little  time  for  learning  my  part;  then  he 
would  assume  his  caressing  way,  and  say,  4  Oh ! 
nonsense ;  you  have  such  a  good  memory !  You 
know  what  pleasure  I  get  from  it;  you  see  how  these 
plays  light  up  Malmaison ;  Josephine  is  very  fond 
of  them.  Get  up  earlier.'  '  And  I  sleep  so  much, 
as  it  is,  don't  I?'  'Come,  Bourrienne,  do  it  to 
please  me ;  you  do  make  me  laugh  so !  Don't  de- 
prive me  of  this  pleasure ;  I  haven't  too  many,  as 
you  know.'  '  Indeed  I  won't  deprive  you  of  any. 
I  am  delighted  to  be  able  to  give  you  any  entertain- 
ment.' "  And  thereupon  Bourrienne  would  set  about 
learning  his  part. 

Napoleon,  whose  administrative  genius  busied  itself 
with  trifles  as  well  as  with  great  things,  looked  after 
the  details  of  the  theatre  at  Malmaison  with  the  same 
solicitude  that  he  showed  for  the  condition  of  his 
soldiers.  He  was,  moreover,  well  read  in  dramatic 
literature.  From  his  infancy  he  had  studied  and 
committed  to  memory  the  French  tragedians,  and 
('specially  Corneille,  whom  he  warmly  admired.  lie 
liked  to  declaim  the  principal  passages.  In  170f), 
before  the  13th  Vende'miaire,  when  he  was  yet  un- 
known, Talma  gave  him  tickets  to  the  Thdatre  Fran- 
cois. He  was  interested  in  the  new  plays,  and  used 
to  examine  them  with  care,  commenting  upon  them 


122  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIEST  CONSUL. 

with  great  intelligence  and  originality.  Most  great 
statesmen  have  been  interested  in  the  theatre. 
Napoleon,  in  this  respect,  had  the  same  tastes  as 
Richelieu  and  Louis  XV.  There  is  nothing  strange 
in  this.  Is  there  not  a  certain  resemblance  between 
the  ruler  of  a  state  and  the  manager  of  a  theatre  ? 
Do  not  both  have  to  do  with  leading  men,  supernu- 
meraries, optical  illusions,  a  pit,  hired  applauders, 
newspaper  notices,  and  a  public  which  applauds  one 
day  and  hisses  the  next?  Are  not  great  men  actors 
in  the  drama  of  history?  And  is  not  human  life 
a  tragic  comedy,  in  which  they  play  the  principal 
parts?  Was  not  Napoleon  all  his  life  an  incompar- 
able manager,  the  manager  of  his  own  glory?  He 
did  not  need  to  look  to  Talma  for  lessons  in  the  art 
of  posing  so  as  to  impress  the  popular  imagination ; 
he  had  already  a  wonderful  knowledge  of  scenic 
effect.  Victorious  or  beaten,  all-powerful  or  a  pris- 
oner, he  knew  how  to  arrange  the  incidents  of  his 
career  to  resemble  the  events  of  a  colossal  drama. 
Who  understood  better  than  he  how  to  select,  for 
those  actions  of  his  that  would  one  day  become 
historical,  the  stage  and  the  setting  that  would  best 
suit  them  ? 

In  the  hands  of  an  organizer  like  Napoleon,  the 
performances  at  Malmaison  could  not  fail  to  succeed. 
At  first  the  list  of  their  plays  was  very  small.  They 
did  not  dare  try  the  great  plays  at  first,  with  natural 
distrust  of  their  powers.  But  soon,  after  playing  a 
number  of   gay  and  amusing  short  pieces,  like  the 


MALMAISOy   IN  ITS   GLORY.  123 


"  Heritiers,"  the  "  Etourdis,"  the  "  Rivaux  d'eux- 
memes,"  and  "  Defiance  et  Malice,"  at  the  request  of 
the  First  Consul,  they  ventured  to  try  more  impor- 
tant plays. 

On  the  evenings  of  their  performances  there  was 
always  a  very  brilliant  company  at  Malmaison.  After 
the  play  the  ground-floor  rooms  were  crowded.  The 
performance  was  followed,  either  by  a  concert,  where 
were  to  be  heard  the  best  singers  and  the  most  skilful 
musicians  of  the  time,  or  by  a  small  ball,  or  rather  a 
dance,  three  or  four  quadrilles  going  on  at  the  same 
time  in  the  spacious  room.  The  First  Consul  him- 
self did  not  disdain  to  dance  with  untiring  energy  ; 
and  on  such  occasions  he  would  ask  the  musicians 
to  play  the  old  tunes  which  reminded  him  of  his 
boyhood. 

The  Duchess  of  Abrantes  gives  a  vivid  description 
of  these  pleasures,  in  which  she  liked  to  take  part. 
*k  There  was  nothing  more  delightful,"  she  says, 
"than  a  ball  at  Malmaison,  at  which  the  women  who 
composed  what  was  really,  though  without  the  name, 
Madame  Bonaparte's  court  took  part.  All  were 
young,  many  were  pretty ;  and  when  they  were 
dressed  in  their  white  crape  gowns,  carrying  flowers, 
and  wearing  garlands  as  fresh  as  their  young,  laugh- 
ing faces,  radiant  with  gayety  and  happiness,  it  was 
delightful  to  see  them  dancing  in  the  hall  in  which 
were  the  First  Consul  and  the  men  with  whom  lie 
was  weighing  the  fate  of  Europe."  Bourrienne  also 
rectus  to   the  same   memories  with  a  certain  tender- 


124  the    WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

ness,  when  he  says,  "  Away  from  the  cares  of  govern- 
ment, which,  so  far  as  possible,  we  left  behind  us  at 
the  Tuileries,  we  were  sometimes  very  happy  in  our 
colony  of  Malmaison ;  and  then  we  were  young,  and 
what  does  not  youth  beautify?"  And  he  adds,  re- 
calling the  drawing-rooms  after  the  performance  of  a 
play  in  the  little  theatre,  "There  the  conversation 
was  most  animated  and  varied ;  and  I  may  say  with 
truth  that  gayety  and  freedom  were  the  soul  of  the 
conversation,  and  made  its  whole  charm.  There 
were  refreshments  of  every  sort,  and  Josephine  did 
the  honors  with  such  grace  that  every  one  could  feel 
that  she  had  been  more  occupied  with  him  than  with 
any  one  else.  After  these  delightful  entertainments, 
which  generally  closed  at  midnight,  the  guests  would 
return  to  Paris." 

Hortense  was  the  leading  star  of  the  theatre  of 
Malmaison.  She  made  a  great  hit  as  Rosina  in  the 
"Barber  of  Seville."  The  other  parts  were  thus  cast: 
Almaviva,  General  Lauriston ;  Figaro,  M.  Didelot ; 
Basile,  Eugene  de  Beauharnais ;  Bartholo,  Bour- 
rienne ;  l'Eveill^,  Isabey,  the  artist.  It  will  be  re- 
membered that  the  same  play  had  been  given  a  few- 
years  before  on  another,  equally  remarkable,  ama- 
teur stage  at  the  Little  Trianon.  Beaumarchais's 
piece  was  played  there  August  19,  1785,  at  the  very 
moment  when  the  incident  of  the  "  Diamond  Neck- 
lace "  occurred.  It  was  Marie  Antoinette  who  took 
the  part  of  Rosina;  Almaviva  was  Count  de  Vau- 
dreuil ;   Bartholo,  the  Duke  of    Guiche ;    Basile,  M. 


MALMAISON   IN  ITS   GLORY.  125 

de  Crussol ;  and  the  Figaro  was  the  Count  d'Artois, 
the  future  Charles  X. 

The  memory  of  Marie  Antoinette  was  still  very 
iresh  at  the  Consular  Court,  and  Madame  Campan, 
who  had  brought  up,  in  her  boarding-school  at  Saint 
Germain,  a  good  many  of  the  young  women  of  this 
new  court,  had  instructed  them  in  the  traditions  of 
the  old  regime.  The  country  balls  of  the  Little 
Trianon,  the  taste  for  pastorals  and  idyls,  the  sheep- 
folds,  the  Swiss  chalets,  the  fashion  of  wearing  white 
dresses,  the  English  gardens,  the  rustic  life,  —  all  these 
things  reappeared  at  Malmaison.  Like  Marie  Antoi- 
nette, Josephine  delighted  in  a  park  with  retreating 
paths  and  winding  walks,  with  the  greensward  cov- 
ered with  daisies  and  violets.  Like  the  Queen  she 
was  full  of  feeling,  kind,  generous,  sympathetic  with 
the  suffering,  sometimes  gay,  but  generally  sad  and 
melancholy.  Like  the  Queen  she  had  the  love  of 
flowers  which  is  shared  by  almost  all  pretty  women. 
May  it  not  be  because  there  was  an  analogy  between 
their  fate  and  that  of  flowers?  Like  the  flowers,  they 
charm  the  eye,  delight  with  their  beauty,  and,  alas! 
fade  in  a  day,  and  are  soon  forgotten  even  where 
they  once  shone  in  all  their  beauty! 

Many  tilings  have  changed  at  Malmaison.  The 
park,  mutilated,  cut  up,  and  reduced  to  the  propor- 
tions of  a  simple  garden,  is  but  the  shadow  of  what 
it  was.  The  avenue  of  chestnut-trees  is  destroyed, — ■ 
a  magnificent  avenue  of  trees,  centuries  old,  in  which 
Xapoleon   liked   to   walk,   musing  as  he  listened,  at 


126  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

the  hour  of  the  Angel.us,  to  the  distant  sound  of  the 
church-bell  at  Rueil.  There  are  no  traces  left  of 
the  line  hot-house  which  contained  so  many  rare 
plants  and  exotic  shrubs.  There  is  not  the  least 
fragment  of  the  pretty  little  theatre  where  Hortense 
used  to  act.  Malmaison  survives ;  I  see  the  shrine, 
but  where  are  the  divinities  ? 

How  Josephine  loved  this  blessed  spot !  People 
travel  far  from  Paris  to  look  at  landscapes  which  are 
certainly  less  fair.  All  about  Malmaison  there  are 
many  spots  to  tempt  an  artist.  There  are,  too,  many 
excursions  for  the  lady  of  the  castle.  In  a  few  min- 
utes one  can  reach  Butard,  a  hunting-house  with  a 
charming  pavilion  in  the  style  of  Louis  XV.,  which 
the  First  Consul  bought.  There  it  is  delightful  to 
float  in  a  little  boat  on  the  pond  of  Saint  Cucufa. 
There  is  an  agreeable  promenade  on  the  superb  ter- 
race of  Saint  Germain,  that  graceful  and  majestic 
amphitheatre  which  looks  out  on  a  fairy-like  pano- 
rama, and  the  aqueduct  of  Marly  lends  a  classical 
air  to  the  horizon,  recalling  Poussin's  most  beautiful 
landscapes. 

Josephine  preferred  Malmaison  to  all  her  other 
residences.  In  comparison  witli  this  favorite  abode, 
the  Tuileries  seemed  like  a  prison,  and  in  fact  about 
this  royal  palace,  now  destroyed,  there  was  even  at 
the  time  of  its  greatest  splendor  something  sad  and 
gloomy.  Malmaison,  on  the  other  hand,  was  cheer- 
ful; only  the  gentle  and  happy  side  of  life  appeared 
there.      There    was   no   rigid    rule    of    etiquette,   but 


MALMAISUy  V.V    ITS   ULOliY.  127 


every  one  breathed  freely  and  took  pleasure  in  living. 
Josephine  was  right  in  wishing  to  remain  there. 
Napoleon  had  quite  as  much  fame  in  this  compara- 
tively modest  residence  as  beneath  the  gilded  cano- 
pies of  Saint  Cloud,  Compiegne,  or  Fontainebleau. 
At  Malmaison  he  still  preserved  some  of  that  Repub- 
lican simplicity  which  was  so  well  suited  to  the  origin 
and  character  of  his  Eflorv,  which  was  very  great,  but 
of  recent  growth.  As  for  monarchical  splendor,  was 
not  the  Tuileries  enough  in  the  winter,  and  was  it 
necessary  to  install  himself  in  the  old  royal  residences 
in  the  summer?  Palaces  are  gloomy  places  to  those 
who  have  not  been  born  in  them;  they  are  the  home 
of  illusions;  they  nourish  the  optimism  which  is 
often  the  forerunner  of  a  downfall.  At  Malmaison 
the  First  Consul  still  heard  the  truth.  At  Saint 
Cloud  no  one  will  dare  to  tell  it  to  him.  lie  will 
have  no  friends;   he  will  have  courtiers. 

Josephine  had  a  presentiment  of  all  this.  She  would 
not  have  wished  a  larger,  a  more  magnificent  resi- 
dence than  this  Malmaison  which  she  had  selected, 
bought,  and  prepared  to  receive  her  husband  on  his 
return  from  Egypt.  It  was  her  ideal.  Hoeerat  in  rot  is. 
September,  1801,  Fontaine  the  architect  wrote:  ''The 
castle  of  Malmaison,  in  spite  of  all  we  have  spent, 
and  all  the  additions,  is  too  small  for  the  First  Con- 
sul, who  requires  a  country-house.  He  lias  thought 
of  taking  Saint  Cloud  and  having  it  put  into  condi- 
tion. .  .  .  Madame  is  averse  to  giving  up  Malmaison, 
which  she  regards  as  her  own  propertv,  which  she  is 


128  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  Fill  ST  CONSUL. 


having  decorated,  and  which  she  prefers  to  any  spot 
on  earth."  She  looked  on  this  place  as  her  Own,  as 
her  work,  and  she  wanted  to  stay  there  ;  for  a  secret 
instinct  told  her  that  the  palaces  would  bring  her 
misfortune.  If  Bonaparte  had  listened  to  her,  he 
would  never  have  established  himself  at  Saint  Cloud. 
But  under  the  spur  of  his  gigantic  ambition  he  began 
to  find  a  house  which  had  previously  belonged  to 
private  owners,  unsuitable  to  his  lofty  rank.  He 
demanded  a  court,  a  military  and  a  civil  establish- 
ment, a  complicated  system  of  etiquette,  imposing 
pomp.  Even  country  life  demanded  some  of  the 
show  of  royalty.  He  demanded  henceforth  to  be 
everywhere,  and  at  all  times,  on  the  same  footing  as 
the  kings  and  emperors,  his  future  brothers,  and 
Saint  Cloud  appeared  as  necessary  to  his  advance  to 
sovereignty. 


HORTEXSE   DE   BEAUHAltNAIS. 

OF  all  the  young  girls  of  the  Consular  Court 
the  most  remarkable  and  the  most  gifted 
was  Josephine's  daughter,  Hortense  de  Beauharnais. 
Amiable,  courteous,  witty,  with  the  figure  of  a  nymph, 
light  hair,  and  a  brilliant  complexion,  she  was  the 
poetic  image  of  France  at  that  time,  in  all  its  youth- 
ful loveliness,  force,  and  confidence  in  the  future,  of 
that  France,  lit  up  by  the  light  and  glowing  dawn. 
Everything  seemed  to  smile  on  the  charming  young 
girl,  who  was  endowed  with  the  rarest  and  the  richest 
qualities.  Vet,  like  almost  all  women  of  exceptional 
intelligence,  talents,  and  beauty,  she  was  predestined 
to  an  unhappy  life.  When  she  was  married,  early  in 
1802,  she  had  already  had  experiences  of  sadness, 
grief,  and  disappointment.  Her  infancy  had  been 
clouded  by  deep  tragedy.  Born  in  Paris,  April  10, 
1783,  she  had,  when  five  years  old,  stalled  for  Marti- 
nique with  her  mother,  who  was  returning  home  to 
escape  the  miseries  of  her  unhappy  marriage,  and  they 
were  nearlv  lost  in  a  tierce  tempest  at  the  mouth  of 
the  Seine.   Returning  to  Paris  in  1790.  she  was  an  eye- 

129 


130  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

witness  of  the  horrors  of  the  Revolution,  her  father, 
General  de  Beauharnais,  being  one  of  its  noblest  vic- 
tims. In  obedience  to  a  law  requiring  the  children  of 
noblemen  to  learn  a  trade,  Hortense  became  a  dress- 
maker's apprentice,  and  her  brother  a  joiner's,  while 
their  parents  were  in  prison.  Their  former  governess 
carried  them,  dressed  like  working-people's  children, 
to  the  Carmelite  Prison,  where  their  mother  was 
locked  up.  Alexander  de  Beauharnais  was  guillo- 
tined, and  only  Robespierre's  overthrow  saved  Jose- 
phine from  the  same  fate.  Hortense  was  eleven  at 
the  time,  and  these  terrible  events  left  a  lasting  im- 
pression on  her  sensitive  character,  stamping  it  with 
a  melancholy  which  nothing  could  dispel.  In  her 
happiest  moments  she  was  not  free  from  sadness,  and 
her  smile  was  not  far  from  tears. 

In  September,  1795,  she  was  entrusted  to  the  care 
of  Madame  Campan,  formerly  a  lady-in-waiting  to 
Marie  Antoinette.  At  that  time  Madame  Campan 
kept  a  boarding-school  in  which  were  revived  all 
the  social  and  religious  traditions  of  the  old  regime. 
Hortense's  companions  were  Caroline  Bonaparte,  the 
future  Queen  of  Naples  ;  Stephanie  de  Beauharnais, 
the  future  Grand-duchess  of  Baden ;  Ldontine  de 
Noailles,  daughter  of  the  Duke  of  Mouchy ;  Rene*e 
Leclerc,  later  the  wife  of  Marshal  Davout ;  Elisa 
Monroe,  daughter  of  the  Minister  of  the  United 
States  to  the  Directory,  who  afterwards  was  Presi- 
dent ;  Mademoiselle  Hervas,  who  married  Duroc ; 
Emilie  de  Beauharnais,  famous  in  1815  for  her  devo- 


1I0RTBNSE  DE  BEAUIIARSAIS.  131 


tion  to  her  husband  La  Valette  :  Mademoiselle  Coehe- 
let,  who  subsequently  became  a  reader  at  the  Dutch 
court.  Hortense,  who  was  very  fond  of  her  compan- 
ions, continued  her  intimacy  with  them  even  after 
she  became  Queen.  At  the  school,  her  room-mates 
were  Madame  Campan's  nieces,  Allele  and  Egle 
Auguier,  one  of  whom  became  Baroness  de  Broc, 
and  the  other  the  wife  of  Marshal  Ney,  Duchess  of 
Elcliingen,  and  Princess  de  la  Moskowa.  At  this 
period  of  her  life  when,  to  quote  her  teachers,  she 
had  not  "  the  honor,  or  the  good  fortune,  or  the  mis- 
fortune to  be  a  princess,"  Hortense  was  comparatively 
happy.  In  her  devotion  to  study  and  the  line  arts, 
she  found  more  solid  joys  than  in  the  pomp  of  great- 
ness, and  she  certainly  preferred  that  modest  and 
obscure  asylum,  the  boarding-school  at  Saint  Ger- 
main, to  the  splendor  of  the  Dutch  palace. 

After  her  mother's  marriage  to  Bonaparte,  Hor- 
tense soon  perceived  the  power  of  his  genius.  She 
conceived  for  him  a  feeling  of  intense  admiration 
and  affection.  Bonaparte,  too,  was  as  fond  of  her  as 
if  she  had  been  his  own  child.  "He  who  generally 
had  a  low  opinion  of  women,"  says  Madame  de  Reniu- 
sat,  " always  expressed  his  respect  for  Hortense.  and 
the  way  in  which  he  spoke  of  her  and  treated  her 
disproves  the  accusations  which  have  been  brought 
against  her.  In  her  presence  his  language  was  al- 
ways more  reserved  and  decorous.  He  often  appealed 
to  her  to  decide  between  her  mother  and  himself,  and 
listened  to  advice  from  her  which  he  would  not  have 


132  THE    WIFE   OF   THE  FIRST   CONSUL. 

received  from  any  one  else.  '  Hortense,'  he  used  to 
say,  '  makes  me  believe  in  virtue.'  "  When  Bonaparte, 
after  his  return  from  Egypt,  wanted  to  separate  from 
Josephine,  it  was  she  who  succeeded  in  calming  his 
wrath.  But  she  was  none  the  less  pained  by  the  sus- 
picions of  which  her  mother  was  the  object,  and  her 
uneasiness  and  distress,  though  for  a  moment  dis- 
pelled, soon  reappeared. 

Yet  Hortense  knew  some  happy  moments  at  the 
Tuileries  and  at  Malmaison.  Her  stepfather's  trium- 
phal entrance  into  the  royal  palace,  the  reviews,  the 
universal  joy  over  the  battle  of  Marengo,  the  enthusi- 
asm and  national  pride  which  fired  France,  —  all  these 
things  thrilled  her  young  soul.  She  was  thoroughly 
patriotic,  and  worshipped  glory.  Her  songs  and  poems 
reflect  her  character.  She  was  like  the  mediaeval 
heroines,  the  women  who  inspired  knights  and  trou- 
badours. The  ideas  and  sentiments  of  chivalry  were 
what  fed  her  heart;  the  harp,  the  lute,  the  sword, 
were  always  in  her  thoughts.  She  might  have  pre- 
sided at  a  tournament,  or  have  been  the  lady-love  of 
the  bravest  paladins.  At  the  time  of  the  Consulate 
there  was  still  poetry  in  women's  hearts.  The  love 
of  money,  which  since  then  lias  done  so  much  harm 
to  society,  had  not  yet  polluted  the  spring  of  noble 
actions.  The  spirit  of  sacrifice,  heroism,  the  ideal, 
were  still  believed  in.  It  is  women  who  mould 
the  character  of  men ;  if  they  are  selfish,  avari- 
cious, self-interested,  if  they  prefer  in  their  lovers 
money  to  com  age,  to  beauty,  to  intelligence,  to  all 


UOUTEXSE   hi:   HEAVIIARNAIS.  \'-\'\ 


the  qualities  of  the  heart,  men  necessarily  become 
prosaic,  vulgar,  low.  We  who  live  in  a  practical, 
positive  time  cannot  readily  form  an  idea  of  the 
generous  enthusiasm,  the  noble  unselfishness,  the 
patriotic  pride,  the  contempt  for  danger,  the  thirst 
for  adventure,  which  existed  at  the  beginning  of  the 
century  in  a  generation  hardened  by  such  bitter  expe- 
riences, and  made  bold  by  the  brilliant  destinies  it 
saw  before  it.  It  was  a  time  when  the  country,  at 
the  sight  of  great  events  which  seemed  to  happen 
by  a  miracle,  possessed  a  vigor,  a  fire,  a  confidence  in 
the  future,  an  audacity  which  overcame  all  obstacles 
and  blotted  from  the  dictionary  such  a  word  as  '•im- 
possible." Men  and  women  had  the  same  inspired 
passion,  glory.  After  the  storms  of  the  Revolution, 
after  the  bloodshed  of  the  Terror  and  the  war,  peace 
seemed  to  smile  again,  and  doubtless  Hortense  de 
Beauharnais  nourished  happy  dreams  as  she  moved 
among  the  band  of  warriors,  writers,  and  artists  who 
formed  the  train  of  the  hero  of  Marengo.  Could  she 
have  foreseen  her  dark  future,  the  death  of  her  chil- 
dren, the  woes  of  her  mother,  the  soil  of  France  pol- 
luted by  foreign  armies,  her  happiness  would  have 
been  marred;  but  those  things  were  providentially 
hidden. 

Hortense  had  noticed  among  the  fellow-soldiers  of 
the  First  Consul  his  aide-de-camp,  Duroc,  a  hand- 
some officer,  loyal  and  chivalrous.  At  that  time 
young  women  often  fell  in  love  with  officers  whose 
-word  was  their  sole  fortune,  and  not  with  the  thought 


134  THE   WIFE  OF   THE  Fill  ST  CONSUL. 


that  by  this  sword  they  might  become  princes  or 
kings.  Their  affection  Avas  only  warmer  because  it 
was  disinterested.  To  Hortense  it  seemed  perfectly 
natural  to  prefer  Duroc  to  the  richest  bankers  or  the 
grandest  nobles,  and  at  first  Bonaparte  did  not  oppose 
his  stepdaughter's  choice.  He  was  very  fond  of 
Duroc ;  and  since  he  had  married  two  of  his  sisters 
to  officers,  there  seemed  to  be  no  good  reason  why 
he  should  not  do  the  same  with  Hortense.  But 
Josephine  was  absolutely  opposed  to  this  marriage, 
which  seemed  to  her  a  very  unsuitable  one.  She 
wanted  to  marry  her  daughter  either  to  some  man 
of  the  old  regime,  or  to  a  Bonaparte.  For  a  moment 
she  thought  of  giving  her  daughter  to  M.  de  Mun, 
an  Emigre  who  had  just  been  permitted  to  return, 
and  was  the  possessor  of  a  considerable  fortune.  But 
this  plan  having  fallen  tlnough,  owing  to  Hortense's 
opposition,  on  the  grounds  that  he  had  been  Madame 
de  StaeTs  lover  in  Germany,  Josephine  was  only 
anxious  to  marry  her  daughter  to  Louis  Bonaparte. 
The  wife  of  the  First  Consul  was  then  tormented  by 
the  vision  of  divorce,  which  filled  her  with  terror  and 
despair.  She  thought  that  by  this  marriage  she  could 
firmly  unite  the  Bonapartes  and  the  Beauharnais. 
More  than  that,  she  thought  that  even  if  she  were 
childless,  her  daughter  might  not  be,  and  that  her 
grandson  might  one  day  rule  over  France;  which  is, 
in  fact,  what  happened. 

Louis  Bonaparte,  who  was   born   at  Ajaccio,  Sep- 
tember 2,  1778,  was  then  twenty-three  years  old.     He 


ITOBTEXSE  UE  BEAUUAliNAlS.  135 


had  already  attained  high  honors.  Since  he  was  four- 
teen, lie  had  been  on  his  brother's  staff,  and  he  had 
served  creditably  in  Italy  and  Egypt.  Made  colonel 
of  the  5th  Dragoons  in  1800,  he  had  distinguished 
himself  at  Marengo  and  had  taken  part  in  the  expe- 
dition to  Portugal.  He  was  not  only  a  brave  and 
cool  officer ;  he  had  received  a  thorough  education, 
and  displayed  an  aptitude  for  literature.  His  appear- 
ance was  agreeable;  he  seemed  gentle  and  modest. 
So  far  as  appearances  went,  he  promised  to  make  an 
excellent  husband. 

Madame  Campan,  as  well  as  Josephine,  did  her 
best  to  give  Hortense  a  good  idea  of  Louis  Bonaparte 
and  to  persuade  her  to  make  a  match  which  seemed 
in  every  way  desirable.  She  began  with  gentle  hints  ; 
and  knowing  that  her  pupil  had  no  fancy  for  Louis, 
she  appealed  to  her  reason  rather  than  to  imagina- 
tion. Suspecting  Hortense's  interest  in  Duroc,  she 
congratulated  her  in  advance  on  resisting  this  infatu- 
ation :  uYou  must  say  to  yourself,"  she  wrote  to  her, 
"that,  after  the  most  rigid  examination,  you  are  sat- 
isfied with  yourself.  I  sincerely  admire  your  wisdom, 
my  dear  child,  and  I  shall  not  be  afraid  to  say  to  the 
First  Consul  that,  out  of  twenty  ordinary  girls  whom 
he  may  place  in  the  society  of  a  staff  composed  of 
young  men  who  share  his  military  occupations  and 
his  glory,  who  have  every  soldierly  virtue,  twenty 
will  be  moved  by  the  respectful  glances  and  atten- 
tions of  these  young  men.  That  is  the  way  his  two 
tasters    made    their    choice.       Apparently,    to    judge 


136  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

from  what  your  mother  has  said,  that  is  what  he 
feared  for  you." 

Without  mentioning  Louis  Bonaparte  by  name, 
Madame  nevertheless  referred  to  him  :  "  You  promise 
me  to  keep  your  heart  free  and  ready  to  accept  any 
proposal  that  shall  not  arouse  an  unconquerable 
repugnance.  In  your  decision  do  not  decide  from  ap- 
pearances alone,  but  with  due  regard  to  qualities  and 
sweetness  of  disposition."  But  Madame  Campan  did 
not  yet  feel  sure  of  gaining  her  cause,  as  these  lines 
show :  "  If  your  heart  is  free,  you  will  weigh  the  ad- 
vantages and  the  disadvantages  ;  but  if  you  have  any 
prepossessions,  you  will  see  merit  only  in  the  one  you 
have  chosen.  A  woman  of  intelligence  finds  the  same 
quality  in  the  man  she  loves,  however  stupid  he  may 
be.  His  ugliness  is  a  charm  that  outrivals  more 
regular  beauty.  In  a  word,  the  illusion  of  love  passes 
away,  and  the  indissoluble  tie  remains ;  the  husband 
is  seen  as  he  is,  and  he  is  not  to  blame,  for  he  is  not 
changed.  It  is  wrong  to  find  fault  with  him;  the 
fault  lies  in  the  eyes  and  the  prepossessions  of  the 
wife's  heart."  Obviously,  to  a  young,  poetic,  roman- 
tic, enthusiastic  girl  like  Mademoiselle  de  Beauhar- 
nais,  such  cold  and  prosaic  advice  could  hardly  have 
been  agreeable. 

Madame  Campan  went  on  ;  she  appealed  to  motives 
of  interest  and  ambition,  I  might  almost  say  to  reasons 
of  state,  and  ended  thus :  "  Act  in  such  a  way  that 
your  conduct  and  Eugene's  shall  please  the  First 
Consul   and  suit  his   views    about   establishing   you 


HORTENSE  I)E  BEAUIIAUNAIS.  l.°»7 


both.  You  are  one  of  the  closest  tics  between  him 
and  your  mother;  and  it'  you  fall  into  disgrace,  you 
must  not  think  that  you  would  readily  find  consola- 
tion. One  may  live  in  a  humble  position,  or  even 
feel  that  it  is  pleasant  to  be  obscure  ;  but  it  is  painful 
to  descend,  and  this,  I  assure  you,  is  true." 

This  crafty  reasoning  had  but  little  weight  with 
the  young  girl,  who  used  to  say  with  melancholy, 
••  My  stepfather  is  a  comet,  and  we  arc  only  the  tail : 
we  must  follow  him  wheresoever  he  goes,  whether  it 
be  to  good  or  to  evil  fortune."  She  did  not  let  her- 
self be  intoxicated  by  the  brilliancy  of  her  destiny, 
and  she  never  forgot  the  stern  lessons  of  her  early 
experience.  One  day  at  Malmaison  she  was  late  for 
dinner,  and  the  First  Consul  had  sat  down  without 
waiting  for  her.  Josephine  went  up  to  her  daugh- 
ter's room,  and  seeing  that  she  was  busy  finishing  a 
drawing,  asked  her  if  she  expected  to  have  to  sup- 
port herself  by  her  skill,  since  nothing  could  tear 
her  from  her  work.  "Mamma,"  answered  Hortense, 
seriously,  "who  can  say  what  may  not  happen  in 
times  like  these?" 

Greatness  had  no  attraction  for  this  girl,  who 
judged  human  dignities  for  what  they  really  were. 
The  idea  of  marrying  a  man  who  was  almost  a 
prince  and  would  become  a  king,  did  not  tempt  her 
in  the  least.  lint  the  First  Consul  was  slow  at 
ciiming  to  a  decision.  lie  had  nearly  promised  the 
hand  of  his  adopted  daughter  to  Duroe;  and  had  it 
not    been    for   Josephine's   entreaties,  —  for  she   was 


138  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

most  anxious  to  have  Louis  Bonaparte  for  son-in-law, 
—  Duroc  would  have  been  successful.  Towards  the 
year  1801  the  First  Consul  had  sent  to  him  by 
special  messenger  his  commission  as  general  com- 
manding a  division.  This  reached  him  in  Holland, 
on  his  way  to  St.  Petersburg,  whither  he  had  been 
sent  to  congratulate  the  Emperor  Alexander  on  his 
accession.  Bourrienne  tells  us  that  during  his  ab- 
sence the  correspondence  of  the  young  lovers  passed 
through  his  hands  by  their  consent.  He  adds  that 
almost  every  evening  at  Malmaison  he  used  to  play 
billiards  with  Hortense,  who  was  expert  in  the  game. 
When  he  told  her  in  a  low  voice,  "  I  have  a  letter," 
the  game  stopped,  and  she  ran  to  her  room  when  he 
gave  her  the  missive.  Then  the  girl's  eyes  would 
fill  with  tears,  and  it  was  long  before  she  would  come 
down  to  the  drawing-room.  She  still  was  hopeful. 
The  First  Consul  said,  "  It  makes  no  difference  what 
my  wife  does  ;  they  suit  eacli  other,  and  they  will 
marry.  T  like  Duroc ;  he  is  of  good  birth.  I  gave 
Caroline  to  Murat,  and  Pauline  to  Leclerc ;  and  I 
can  give  Hortense  to  Duroc,  who  is  a  capital  fellow." 
But  Josephine  managed  to  alter  everything.  Bour- 
rienne, who  was  an  eye-witness  of  her  wiles,  tells  us 
how  she  brought  over  the  First  Consul  to  her  opinion 
by  her  entreaties,  her  skill,  her  caresses,  and  all  the 
devices  which  she  well  knew  how  to  move. 

Perhaps  Duroc  would  even  then  have  succeeded, 
in  spite  of  Josephine,  if  he  had  insisted  more  strenu- 
ously.    But  he  was  modest,  with  what  was  really  ex- 


HOETEXSE  DE  BEAUITAIiNAlS.  139 

aggerated  delicacy ;  lie  was  fearful  of  being  thought 
an  ambitious  schemer;  he  was  averse  to  sowing  dis- 
sension in  the  household  of  his  chief,  his  benefactor; 
and  this  dread  of  annoying  the  hero  he  worshipped 
prevailed  over  every  other  feeling.  Besides,  Bona- 
parte had  given  him  to  understand  that  if  he  married 
Ilortense,  he  should  be  appointed  to  the  command 
of  the  8th  Military  Division,  and  that  on  the  day 
after  the  wedding  he  should  leave  for  Toulon  with 
his  wife.  The  First  Consul  had  added,  "I  don't 
want  any  son-in-law  in  my  house."  This  threat  sin- 
gularly cooled  Duroc's  ardor ;  for  he  could  not  bear 
to  think  of  separating  himself  from  a  chief  for  whom 
he  had  a  boundless  admiration  which  was  almost 
idolatry,  and,  rather  than  leave  him,  he  abandoned 
his  aspirations  to  the  hand  of  Mademoiselle  de  Beau- 
harnais. 

The  girl,  who  expected  a  stronger  feeling  on  the 
part  of  the  man  she  had  chosen,  was  naturally 
piqued  by  his  determination.  She  felt  that  she  was 
not  loved  with  a  fervor  equal  to  her  own,  and  this 
deception  added  to  her  pain.  Deprived  of  Duroc's 
support,  she  at  last,  in  despair,  yielded  to  her  moth- 
er's prayers,  and  her  marriage  with  Louis  Bonaparte 
was  settled. 


XI. 


MADAME  LOUIS  BONAPAKTE. 

PARENTS  who  persuade  their  daughter  to  a 
marriage  of  interest  or  convenience,  with  no 
concern  for  her  feelings,  assume  a  heavy  responsi- 
bility. They  should  never  forget  that,  while  love 
often  departs,  it  never  comes,  after  marriage.  What 
more  painful  than  to  see  a  young  girl  sacrificed  to 
calculations  against  which  the  soul  revolts?  There 
are  abundant  felicitations,  and  the  girl  is  covered 
with  flowers  like  the  victim  in  ancient  sacrifices. 
But  during  all  the  festivities,  even  at  the  altar,  she 
suffers  keenly.  The  music  of  the  ball,  the  hymns  of 
the  church,  sound  to  her  like  a  funeral  march.  In 
her  eyes  the  flowers  she  wears  on  her  head  are  already 
as  faded  and  withered  as  her  illusions.  Under  her 
bridal  veil  she  hides  her  pallor,  perhaps  her  tears. 
She  answers  the  compliments  that  are  offered  her 
with  a  forced  smile.  The  customary  compliments 
sound  like  irony;  and  when  the  last  note  of  the  organ 
has  sounded,  and  the  altar  candles  are  put  out,  and 
she  is  alone,  it  is  not  the  jewels,  or  the  robes,  or  a 
fine-sounding  name,  or  a  coronet  upon  her  presents, 
140 


MADAME  LOUIS  BONAPARTE.  141 


—  mere  empty  trifles,  —  that  can  soften  the  bitter 
agony  of  disappointment. 

Madame  Campan  wrote  to  Mademoiselle  Hortense 
de  Beauharnais :  "  Yon  are  about  to  form  a  tie  which 
all  Europe  will  applaud,  as  I  do.  1  have  some  slight 
knowledge  of  character  and  of  similarities.  ...  I 
have  noticed  in  yon  both  a  conformity  of  tastes  which 
assures  your  domestic  happiness.  .  .  .  You  will  unite 
two  families  which  ought  to  form  one,  and  both  are 
dear  to  France.  I  am  sure  that  you  will  love  each 
other  much  and  always.  Louis  was  not  too  much 
disposed  to  matrimony.  The  First  Consul,  who 
knows  how  to  remedy  every  evil,  has  chosen  for  him 
the  woman  who  cannot  fail  to  make  him  happy  by 
the  qualities  which  lie  admires,  and  one  can  only 
praise  the  man  who  desires  such  qualities  in  his  wife. 
Soon,  my  dear  friend,  I  shall  cease  to  write  to  you 
letters  of  advice.  You  will  have  a  competent  guide. 
Now  the  teacher  can  only  rejoice  in  her  work.  A 
marriage  based  on  a  similarity  of  position,  education, 
and  tastes,  such  as  all  the  world  sees  here,  must  be 
the  happiest  union  possible." 

Unfortunately  Madame  Campan  was  mistaken. 
Hortense  well  knew  that  her  old  teacher  was  wrong 
in  thinking  that  she  understood  a  girl's  heart.  Proph- 
ecies destined  to  be  cruelly  disproved  did  not  at  all 
deceive  the  sad  young  woman  who  resigned  herself 
to  her  fate  in  silence.  Possibly  she  was  afraid  to 
confide  to  her  stepfather  her  repugnance  to  the  pro- 
jected union.      Bourrienne   tells   us   that  she   felt  a 


142  THE   WIFE   OF   THE  Fill  ST  CONSUL. 

respectful  timidity  before  tlie  First  Consul,  and  that 
she  always  trembled  when  she  spoke  to  him ;  when- 
ever she  wanted  to  ask  anything  of  him,  it  was  done 
through  Bourrienne  ;  and  if  there  was  any  difficulty, 
he  used  to  say  that  Hortense  had  asked  him  to  make 
the  application.  "  Little  goose  !  "  Bonaparte  would 
reply,  "why  doesn't  she  ask  me  herself?  Is  she 
afraid  of  me  ? "  Yes,  Hortense  was  afraid  of  the 
First  Consul,  and  that  is  why  she  did  not  ask  him  to 
release  her  from  the  union  he  proposed.  Besides,  Jose- 
phine, who  was  not  always  accurate  in  her  statements, 
had  at  last  persuaded  her  husband  that  Hortense  and 
Louis  were  in  love,  and  at  Saint  Helena  he  still 
thought  that  for  a  moment  there  had  been  a  feeling 
of  this  sort  between  the  two  young  people.  As  for 
Louis  Bonaparte,  as  soon  as  he  saw  that  this  marriage 
had  been  determined  by  his  all-powerful  brother,  he 
did  not  even  try  to  oppose  it.  Every  wish  of  the 
First  Consul  was  regarded  as  a  command.  Yet  he 
had  no  more  interest  in  Hortense  than  Hortense 
had  for  him.  He  wrote  in  his  Memoirs,  in  speaking 
of  his  marriage,  "  Never  Avas  there  so  gloomy  a  cere- 
mony ;  never  did  man  and  wife  have  a  stronger 
presentiment  of  a  forced  and  ill-assorted  marriage."' 
Al  the  same  time  all  the  numerous  courtiers  of  the 
First  Consul  and  his  wife  were  speaking  with  enthu- 
siasm of  a  union  which  flatterers  were  praising  in 
busy  rivalry. 

The  civil  ceremony  took  place  January  3,  1802,  at 
the  Tuileries,  in  the  presence  of  the    Bonaparte  and 


MADAME  LOUIS   HOSAPAltTE.  143 


Beauharnais  families.  Mass  was  not  yet  said  in  this 
palace,  and  it  was  in  the  house  in  the  rue  de  la  Vic- 
toire,  where  Josephine  lived  when  she  married  Napo- 
leon, that  the  marriage  took  place.  In  the  beginning 
of  180:2,  before  the  Concordat,  the  church  ceremonies 
were  always  celebrated  in  private  houses,  where  un- 
sworn priests  officiated.  This  mansion  had  been 
chosen  for  the  residence  of  the  young  couple,  and 
there  it  was  that  Cardinal  Caprara,  who  was  arrang- 
ing the  terms  of  the  Concordat  with  the  French  gov- 
ernment, gave  the  nuptial  blessing.  General  Murat 
and  his  wife  Caroline  Bonaparte,  who  had  been  civ- 
illy married  two  years  before,  had  not  yet  had  the 
ceremony  solemnized  before  a  priest.  They  took  this 
opportunity  to  have  their  situation  legalized  by  the 
Church,  and  on  the  same  day  as  Louis  and  Hortense, 
in  the  same  house  in  the  rue  de  la  Victoire,  they 
received  the  nuptial  blessing  from  Cardinal  Caprara. 
There  was  another  woman,  too,  who  would  have 
gladly  enjoyed  the  same  privilege:  Josephine. 
Strangely  enough,  when  the  First  Consul  was  busy- 
ing himself  witli  the  interests  of  religion  and  the 
re-establishment  of  the  Church,  he  set  the  example 
of  the  violation  of  one  of  its  main  laws,  and,  from  a 
religious  point  of  view,  his  union  with  Josephine  was 
an  unholy  one.  She  was  very  anxious  to  put  an  end 
to  this  state  of  things;  but  Bonaparte,  whether  it  was 
that  he  dreaded  to  call  the  attention  of  the  public  to 
the  nature  of  the  bond  which  attached  him  to  his 
wife,  or  whether  he   wished  to  have   a   ready  excuse 


144  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

for  divorce  whenever  he  should  wish  it,  obstinately 
refused  to  accede  to  her  wishes.  This  was  a  mor- 
tification to  her  which  only  added  to  her  daughter's 
distress. 

Young  women  have  by  instinct  the  art  of  conceal- 
ing their  emotions  ;  in  this  respect  they  outdo  trained 
diplomatists.  No  one  who  saw  Madame  Louis  Bona- 
parte in  the  festivities  that  succeeded  her  marriage 
could  have  guessed  the  secret  torments  that  agitated 
her.  At  the  ball  given  in  her  honor  by  Madame  de 
Montesson,  the  widow  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  she 
had  a  most  enthusiastic  success.  It  was  a  magnificent 
entertainment,  at  which  all  the  splendor  of  the  old 
regime  reappeared.  This  assemblage  of  eight  hun- 
dred persons  of  the  highest  aristocracy,  the  brilliant 
uniforms,  the  rich  dresses,  the  many  diplomatists,  the 
powdered  footmen  in  silk  stockings  and  scarlet  livery, 
the  profusion  of  flowers  on  the  staircase  and  in  the 
rooms,  the  great  abundance  of  candelabra  and  chande- 
liers, of  diamonds  and  other  precious  stones,  brought 
back  the  memory  of  festal  evenings  at  Versailles. 
The  young  bride,  with  her  sweet,  intelligent  face, 
her  sensitive  mouth,  her  kindly  expression,  her  fine 
blond  hair,  her  brilliant  complexion,  her  combination 
of  creole  indifference  and  French  vivacity,  aroused 
the  admiration  of  the  crowd  who  gathered  about  her. 
She  wore  a  peplum  over  a  long  tunic ;  and  when  she 
danced  with  the  exquisite  grace  that  marked  all  her 
movements,  she  was  like  one  of  the  Hours  painted  on 
the  frescos  of  Herculaneum.   Intelligence,  inspiration, 


MADAME  LOUIS   BOS  A  PARTE.  14.", 


beauty,  shone  from  her  blue  eyes  with  an  untie  finable 
charm.  As  one  of  her  contemporaries  said,  she  pleased 
imperatively.  The  First  Consul  was  delighted  with 
the  Marchioness  tie  Montesson's  ball.  For  a  fortnight 
nothing  else  was  talked  of  in  the  Tuileries  drawing- 
room;  it  set  the  tone  for  the  consular  society. 

Every  one  there  imagined  llortense  perfectly 
happy,  but  she  was  suffering  in  silence ;  in  silence, 
for  she  had  too  much  tact,  too  much  dignity,  to  com- 
plain. She  went  to  one  party  after  another,  always 
agreeable,  always  pleasant  and  admired,  with  a  smile 
on  her  lips  and  sadness  in  her  heart.  She  was  not 
yet  wholly  wretched;  but  that  she  soon  would  be, 
she  clearly  foresaw.  Her  misfortunes  were  certain 
to  grow  with  her  advance  in  position.  She  knew  that 
the  higher  she  rose,  the  more  she  would  suffer.  In 
comparison  with  the  period  which  she  spent  on  the 
throne  of  Holland,  the  first  few  months  of  her  mar- 
ried life  were  a  happy  time.  At  least  she  was  in  her 
own  country,  among  her  friends,  near  her  mother  and 
brother.  Later  her  queen's  crown  would  be  heavy  on 
her  brow,  and  every  palace  she  would  inhabit  would 
be  but  a  new  place  of  exile.  Those  who  saw  her  at. 
the  Consular  Court,  of  which  she  was  the  fairest  orna- 
ment, preserved  a  tender  memory  of  her  irresistible 
charm,  as  the  Memoirs  of  her  contemporaries  testify. 
Few  women  have  had  to  the  same  extent  the  gift  of 
pleasing. 

In  1802  and  the  beginning  of  1803  Louis  Bona- 
parte, who  stood  in  mortal  terror  of  his  brother,  did 


146  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

not  dare  to  show  his  whole  jealous  and  quarrelsome 
character.  He  did  not  dare  to  manifest  his  evil  sus- 
picions of  the  First  Consul,  and  he  permitted  his  wife 
to  live  at  Malmaison,  to  do  the  honors  there  with 
Josephine,  or  even  alone  when  Josephine  was  at 
Plombidres,  and  to  act  in  the  little  theatre  by  the  side 
of  the  gallery.  Madame  Louis  Bonaparte,  as  Rosina 
in  the  "  Barber  of  Seville,"  was  really  admirable.  It 
was  said  of  her  that  "  if  she  had  been  the  wife  of  the 
First  Consul's  aide-de-camp,  she  would  always  have 
been  applauded  for  her  perfect  acting."  She  was 
very  graceful  and  charming  as  the  young  Andalusian 
girl,  with  her  sweet,  saucy  air,  her  bright  eyes,  and 
her  thick  black  curls  beneath  a  black  velvet  hat 
decorated  with  long  pink  feathers.  After  one  of  the 
performances  of  the  "  Barber  of  Seville,"  the  First 
Consul  wrote  to  his  wife  at  Plombieres,  July  1, 1803  : 
"  I  have  received  your  letter  of  the  10th  Messidor. 
You  say  nothing  about  your  health  or  the  effect  of 
the  baths.  I  see  that  you  mean  to  come  back  in  a 
week,  and  that  is  a  great  pleasure  to  me,  for  I  much 
miss  you.  You  must  have  seen  General  Ney,  who  is 
leaving  for  Plombieres ;  he  is  to  be  married  on  his 
return.  Hortense  played  Rosina  yesterday  in  the 
'  Barber  of  Seville  '  with  her  usual  intelligence." 

Madame  Louis  Bonaparte  sought  in  study,  in  paint- 
ing, and  in  music,  consolation  for  the  sorrows  of  an 
uncongenial  marriage ;  but  in  the  arts  she  saw  only 
their  melancholy  side.  She  was  naturally  affection- 
ate, and  with  a  husband  capable  of  understanding  and 


MADAME  LOUIS   BOXAPAllTK.  147 


esteeming  her,  she  would  have  been  perhaps  a  model 
wife;  instead,  she  was  the  companion  of  a  man  ill 
in  body  and  mind,  morose,  discontented,  uneasy,  and 
suspicious.  According  to  Madame  de  Remusat,  she 
took  untiring  pains  to  please  the  husband  whom  she 
had  the  misfortune  not  to  love;  she  was  gentle,  sub- 
missive, deferential.  But  her  husband,  instead  of 
being  grateful,  was  only  annoyed.  "  She  is  practising 
on  me,"  he  used  to  say,  "  in  order  to  deceive  me." 
He  let  her  see  his  aversion  to  his  stepsister  and 
mother-in-law,  Josephine,  whom  he  regarded  as  an 
enemy  of  the  Bonapartes,  and  whom  he  did  not  hesi- 
tate to  represent  to  Hortense  in  the  most  odious  light. 
Hortense,  who  had  warmly  loved  her  mother,  and  had 
remained  a  Beauharnais  at  heart,  was  deeply  wounded 
by  her  husband's  remarks,  when  he  would  say  to  her, 
••  You  are  now  a  Bonaparte,  and  our  interests  ought 
to  be  your  interests  ;  those  of  your  family  don't  con- 
cern you  any  more,"  and  when  he  went  on  to  say, 
that  he  was  determined  to  take  every  precaution  nec- 
essary to  escape  the  common  fate  of  husbands,  and 
that  he  should  not  be  duped  by  any  attempt  to  avoid 
him,  or  by  any  pretences  of  affection  that  were  de- 
signed to  blind  him. 

These  odious  suspicions  filled  with  indignation 
Hortense's  haughty  and  sensitive  soul.  Her  brow 
darkened  as  she  saw  the  cloud  gathering,  and  her 
surprise  at  the  heartlessness  that  threatened  her, 
idled  her  with  disgust  for  honors  that  were  purchased 
at  so  high  a  price.     Then  terrible  insult  awaited  her: 


148  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIB  ST  CONSUL. 

she  was  tortured  by  hearing  that  her  pure  and  noble 
affection  for  her  father-in-law  had  been  misinterpreted, 
and  that  the  First  Consul  was  accused  of  an  unholy 
passion  for  her,  which  she  returned.  This  detestable 
calumny  only  added  to  Louis  Bonaparte's  suspicions, 
and  henceforth  he  was  placed  in  a  painful  and  diffi- 
cult position  in  regard  to  his  brother.  This  is  what 
Madame  de  Re*musat  says :  "  The  Bonapartes,  and 
especially  Madame  Murat,  who  had  opposed  this  mar- 
riage with  some  violence,  because,  since  Joseph's 
children  were  all  girls,  it  was  evident  that  if  Louis 
had  a  son,  who  would  be  Josephine's  grandson,  he 
would  at  once  be  a  very  important  child,  spread 
abroad  the  detestable  rumor  of  the  intimacy  of  the 
First  Consul  with  his  stepdaughter.  The  public 
heard  it  with  delight.  Madame  Murat  confided  it 
to  Louis,  who,  whether  he  believed  it  or  not,  only  re- 
doubled his  precautions.  Servants  were  taught  to 
spy,  letters  and  notes  were  opened,  all  acquaintances 
were  frowned  on,  even  Eugene  was  regarded  with 
jealousy ;  there  was  a  series  of  violent  scenes ;  the 
poor  woman  knew  no  rest." 

October  10,  1802,  Madame  Louis  Bonaparte  gave 
birth,  at  Paris,  to  a  son,  who  was  to  die  at  the  Hague, 
May  5, 1807.  Madame  Campan  at  this  time  wrote  to 
the  mother  about  the  way  in  which  Louis,  in  acces- 
sion of  amiability,  had  celebrated  the  birthday  of  his 
first-born.  "  You  were  moved  by  it ;  your  tender 
heart  must  have  been  moved.  But,  —  I  know  you 
well,  —  did  you   show  it  ?      I  am  well  aware    that 


MADAME  LOUIS    U0XAPA11TE.  1  19 


simple,  pure  souls,  that  have  been  well  trained,  de- 
spise all  demonstrations,  but  sometimes  with  the  best 
motives  errors  are  made."  How  could  Hortense  be 
happy,  even  by  the  side  of  her  child's  cradle,  when 
she  knew  that  calumny  did  not  spare  even  this  little 
being?  when  every  mark  of  Napoleon's  interest  in 
the  infant  was  to  the  public  additional  proof  of  her 
degradation  ? 

Bourrienne,  who  is  generally  severe,  and  especially 
towards  the  First  Consul,  denounced  these  vile  insin- 
uations most  severely.  'k  I  am  glad,"  he  says  in  his 
Memoirs,  uto  he  able  to  give  the  most  formal  and 
positive  lie  to  these  infamous  suppositions.  They  lie 
in  their  throat  when  they  say  that  Bonaparte  had 
any  other  feeling  for  Hortense  than  that  of  a  step- 
father for  his  stepdaughter.  The  whole  disgusting 
story  is  ;i  lie,  and  yet  it  spread  not  only  throughout 
France,  but  into  every  corner  of  Europe.  Is  there 
no  way  of  escaping  vile  gossip?" 

Napoleon  was  much  concerned  at  these  reports,  and 
Josephine  was  horrified.  Their  happiness  at  the 
birth  of  the  child  was  poisoned  by  the  prevalent 
rumor.  "Poor  Josephine,"  says  Bourrienne,  "paid 
a  high  price  for  her  glory.  Knowing  the  groundless- 
ness of  these  reports,  I  tried  to  console  her  by  telling 
her  how  I  tried  to  show  their  wickedness  and  falsity. 
But  Bonaparte,  under  the  influence  of  the  affection 
of  which  he  was  the  object,  only  augmented  his  wife's 
grief.  He  was  deluded  enough  to  imagine  that  the 
whole  thing  was  due  to  the   desire  of  the  country  tu 


150  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  Flit  ST  CONSUL. 

see  an  heir ;  consequently,  when  he  tried  to  console 
her  as  a  mother,  he  pained  her  as  a  wife,  and  the 
vision  of  a  divorce  returned.  In  his  wild  illusion, 
Bonaparte  imagined  that  France  wanted  to  be  gov- 
erned by  a  bastard,  which  is  a  curious  way  of  estab- 
lishing a  new  legitimacy."  Hortense  was  not  ambi- 
tious. All  the  plans  formed  about  her  baby's  cradle 
only  annoyed  her.  She  thought  that  such  calcula- 
tions only  lessened  the  natural  feelings,  by  altering 
its  poetry  and  sanctity.  Private  life  seemed  to  her 
preferable  to  that  of  a  queen,  and  she  hated  to  think 
that  in  France,  or  elsewhere,  he  might  become  the 
heir  to  a  throne. 

Even  at  Saint  Helena  Napoleon  recalled  these  un- 
happy calumnies,  and  in  his  "Memorial"  may  be 
found  this  curious  passage :  "  Louis  was  a  child 
spoiled  by  reading  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau.  He 
could  not  be  long  satisfied  with  his  wife.  A  good 
deal  of  unreasonableness  on  his  side  and  of  lightness 
on  hers,  these  were  the  wrongs  on  each  side."  And 
then  he  once  more  defends  himself,  saying  that  crim- 
inal intimacies  of  that  sort  suited  neither  his  ideas 
nor  his  habits,  and  any  one  who  had  the  slightest 
knowledge  of  the  Tuileries,  would  understand  how 
impossible  would  be  such  a  revolting  crime.  "  Louis 
knew  what  value  to  set  on  such  rumors ;  but  his  vain, 
capricious  character  was  shocked,  and  he  made  use 
of  them  as  pretexts." 

Josephine,  who  was  jealousy  incarnate,  at  times 
thought  her  husband  guilty,  possibly  her  daughter. 


MADAME  LOUIS   BOJS AP ARTE.  151 


The  Bonapartes  made  the  most  of  these  sources  of 
dissension,  for  even  under  the  Republic  there  flour- 
ished all  the  intrigues  and  low  ambitions  of  a  court. 
Ilortense,  who  was  naturally  sentimental  and  ro- 
mantic, felt  herself  a  stranger  amid  such  surround- 
ings. She  missed  the  happy  dreams  of  her  youth 
and  her  swiftly  vanished  happiness.  Very  early  and 
precocious  experience  had  taught  her  all  that  was 
vilest  and  most  cowardly  in  human  nature.  This 
generous  young  woman,  whose  aspirations  had  been 
most  noble,  with  her  passion  for  art,  her  love  of  the 
ideal,  woke  from  these  lofty  visions  to  find  herself 
in  a  low,  malicious  world.  Her  health  was  affected, 
and  she  needed  all  her  resignation  and  generosity  to 
avoid  reproaching  her  mother  for  having  thus  sacri- 
ficed her.  Later  she  will  be  guilty  of  unpardonable 
faults,  but  in  defence  of  these  may  be  pleaded  ex- 
tenuating circumstances,  because  she  will  yield  to 
affection  and  not  to  calculations  of  interest.  That 
is  the  reason  for  the  sympathy  that  was  shown  to  her 
by  her  contemporaries  of  all  parties,  even  when  her 
errors  were  most  notorious.  Not  merely  the  friends 
of  Imperialism,  but  even  the  bitterest  foes  of  Napo- 
leon respected  her.  In  1814  the  Emperor  Alexander 
treated  her  with  regard  and  devotion.  At  about  the 
same  time,  Madame  de  Kriidener  wrote  to  Madem- 
oiselle Cochelet  about  the  then  unthroned  Queen: 
''What  news  of  this  angel  whom  you  love  so  much, 
and  to  whom  my  heart  nourishes  respectful  devo- 
tion?" And  later,  Chateaubriand  became  the  courtier 
of  this  lady  in  exile,  when  she  was  sanctified  bv  grief. 


xn. 


MADAME  JTJNOT. 


MADAME  JUNOT,  who,  a  few  years  later,  be- 
came  the  Duchess  of  Abrantes,  was  a  brilliant 
figure  among  the  young  women  who  formed  the  Con- 
sular Court.  Her  high  birth,  her  intelligence,  her 
beauty,  her  marriage,  all  placed  her  in  the  front  rank. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  a  very  beautiful  woman, 
Madame  de  Pennon,  a  great  friend  of  the  Bonapartes, 
and  was  born  at  Montpellier  in  1784.  The  Permons 
were  a  Corsican  family,  of  Greek  origin,  who  also 
bear  the  name  of  Comnenus,  tradition  saying  that 
they  belonged  to  the  line  of  the  Eastern  emperors. 
Madame  de  Permon,  who  at  Ajaccio  had  been  a 
neighbor  of  Madame  Letitia  Bonaparte,  always  loved 
her  as  a  sister,  and  it  was  at  her  house  at  Montpellier 
that  Charles  Bonaparte,  the  brother  of  the  future 
Emperor,  died.  After  the  Revolution  she  established 
herself  in  Paris,  in  a  pretty  house  in  the  Chauss6c 
d'Antin,  and  there  she  received  those  people  of  the 
old  rdgime  who  had  survived  the  general  ruin.  The 
young  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  whom  she  treated  as  a 
boy,  asked  her  to  many  him,  although  she  was  a  good 

152 


MADAME  JUXOT.  153 


many  years  older  than  he :  but  she  was  far  from  ac- 
cepting his  suit;  she  merely  smiled  at  it.  During  the 
Directory,  Madame  de  Permon,  who  was  intimate 
with  what  remained  of  the  society  of  the  Faubourg 
Saint  Germain,  was  one  of  the  most  conspicuous 
women  in  Paris.  She  might  have  been  taken  for  the 
sister  of  her  daughter  Laure,  the  future  Duchess  of 
Abrantes,  a  charming  girl  whose  grace  and  pre- 
cocious intelligence  delighted  every  one. 

After  the  18th  Brumaire,  Laure  de  Permon  mar- 
ried one  of  the  bravest  and  most  brilliant  of  the 
First  Consul's  fellow-soldiers,  the  young  General 
Junot,  who  was  born  at  Bussey-le-Grand  in  1771. 
He  was  as  chivalrous  and  adventurous  as  a  knight 
of  the  Crusades,  madly  reckless  of  his  money  and  his 
life,  devoted  to  women,  war,  and  glory.  As  governor 
of  Paris,  he  occupied  a  magnificent  house,  a  present 
from  the  First  Consul  in  the  rue  des  Champs  Elysdes 
(now  the  rue  Boissy  d'Anglas).  Their  first  child, 
a  daughter,  born  in  1801,  had  for  sponsors  at  its 
baptism  Bonaparte  and  Josephine.  Her  godfather 
gave  her  a  beautiful  pearl  necklace;  and  her  god- 
mother, one  hundred  thousand  francs  for  furnishing 
the  house  in  the  rue  des  Champs  Elysees.  In  the 
spring  of  1802  Junot  and  his  wife,  for  a  housewarm- 
ing,  gave  a  ball  which  was  honored  by  the  presence 
of  the  First  Consul.  lie  examined  the  house  from 
cellar  to  garret,  and,  pleased  to  see  his  companion, 
thanks  to  his  munificence,  so  comfortably  established, 
he  staved  at  the  ball  till  one  o'clock  in  the   morning. 


154  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

That  evening  Josephine  wore  in  her  hair  a  crown  of 
vine-branches  with  bunches  of  purple  grapes,  and 
her  dress,  embroidered  with  silver,  was  trimmed  with 
bunches  of  grapes  like  those  in  her  hair.  Her 
daughter,  Madame  Louis  Bonaparte,  danced  like  a 
sylph.  She  wore  a  classical  dress,  a  peplum  of  crape 
embroidered  with  silver,  and  on  her  head  she  wore  a 
crown  of  roses. 

In  spite  of  the  kindness  of  the  First  Consul  to 
Junot,  Madame  de  Permon,  who  continued  to  think 
herself  of  higher  birth  and  social  position  than  the 
Bonapartes,  assumed  a  protecting  attitude  towards 
them,  and  she  was  not  fascinated  by  the  hero  of 
Marengo,  whom  she  had  known  poor,  obscure,  and 
young.  She  was  not  sparing  of  her  criticisms,  doubt- 
less wishing  that  he  would  pay  his  court  to  her  as 
he  had  already  done.  She  was  annoyed,  for  example, 
that  he  did  not  leave  his  card  after  spending  an 
evening  in  company  at  her  house,  and  to  soothe  her 
feelings  her  son  said,  "  But  he's  a  very  great  man." 
"  Well,  what  difference  does  that  make  ?  Marshal 
Saxe  was  a  great  man  too,  but  yet  he  used  to  make 
visits." 

Madame  Junot  inherited  her  mother's  independent 
and  somewhat  caustic  character.  In  conversation 
she  was  able  to  cope  not  only  with  the  First  Consul's 
sisters,  but  even  with  himself,  as  we  may  see  from 
this  anecdote  taken  from  her  Memoirs. 

The  scene  is  at  Malmaison,  where  Bonaparte  was 
alone,  Josephine  having  gone  to  Plombieres  on  ac- 


MADAME   JUNOT 


MADAME  JUNOT.  155 

count  of  her  health.  Her  husband  still  writes  to  her 
affectionate  letters,  but  he  is  certainly  less  deeply 
in  love  than  he  was  in  the  Italian  campaign.  He 
writes :  "  We  are  rather  gloomy  here,  though  Hor- 
tense  does  the  honors  of  the  house  admirably.  .  .  . 
I  love  you  as  much  as  I  ever  did,  because  you  are 
kind  and  especially  lovable.  ...  A  thousand  good 
wishes  and  many  kisses."  In  fact,  the  First  Consul 
readily  consoled  himself  for  Josephine's  absence. 
He  liked  to  be  at  Malmaison,  and  he  discharged  his 
duties  as  host  with  much  charm;  he  was  pleasant, 
happy,  and  full  of  animation.  Madame  Louis  Bona- 
parte, to  console  him,  had  brought  together  a  number 
of  young  and  pretty  women,  among  whom  was 
Madame  Junot,  who  had  been  recently  married. 
The  husbands  of  these  ladies  were  for  the  most  part 
detained  by  their  duties  in  Paris.  From  time  to 
time  they  came  out  to  Malmaison  to  dine  with  the 
First  Consul,  leaving  for  Paris  the  same  evening. 
Their  wives  stayed  at  Malmaison,  occupying  the 
little  guest-chambers  which  opened  on  the  long  cor- 
ridors on  the  first  floor.  Junot  stayed  at  his  post  as 
governor  of  Paris  and  left  his  wife  peaceably  under 
the  protection  of  Madame  Louis  Bonaparte. 

One  morning  Madame  Junot,  who  had  been  sleep- 
ing soundly,  awoke  with  a  start.  Judge  of  her  sur- 
prise, whom  did  she  see  near  her  bed?  She  fancied 
herself  dreaming,  rubbed  her  eyes,  and  then  burst 
out  laughing.  "  Yes,  it  is  I,"  said  Bonaparte  ;  "  why 
are  you  so  surprised?"     It  was  evidently  very  early, 


156  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

and  Madame  Junot  held  out  her  watch  before  the 
First  Consul's  face ;  it  was  not  yet  five  o'clock. 
"  Indeed,"  said  Bonaparte,  "  is  it  no  later  than  that  ? 
Well,  so  much  the  better ;  we  can  talk."  Then  he 
pushed  an  easy-chair  up  near  the  bed,  sat  down 
calmly,  and  instead  of  talking  ran  over  a  huge  bundle 
of  letters,  on  which  she  saw  written  in  large  char- 
acters :  "  For  the  First  Consul  himself,  for  him 
alone ;  personal."  For  a  whole  hour  he  went  through 
his  correspondence.  The  clock  sounded.  "  The 
deuce !  six  o'clock.  Good-by,  Madame  Junot." 
Then  through  the  bedclothes  he  pinched  her  foot, 
and  with  his  papers  under  his  arm  went  off,  hum- 
ming some  little  song  horribly  out  of  tune. 

The  next  morning  the  same  thing  happened.  At 
the  same  hour  the  First  Consul  had  the  maid  open 
the  door,  sat  down  by  Madame  Junot's  bed,  without 
apologizing  for  waking  her  so  early,  ran  over  his 
letters  and  papers,  pinched  her  foot  through  the  bed- 
clothes, bade  her  good-by,  and  went  off  singing.  As 
soon  as  he  was  gone,  Madame  Junot  called  her  maid 
and  said,  "  I  forbid  your  opening  the  door  when  any 
one  knocks  at  such  an  early  hour."  "  But,  ma'am,  if 
it's  the  First  Consul ? "  "I  don't  want  to  be  waked 
up  so  early  by  the  First  Consul  or  any  one  else.  Do 
what  I  tell  you."  That  evening  Madame  Junot 
repeated  her  orders,  and  went  to  bed  somewhat  dis- 
turbed, wondering  if  it  was  advisable  for  her  to  stay 
at  Malmaison.  She  loved  the  First  Consul  as  a  sister 
loves  a  brother    but  what  were  his  feelings? 


MADAME  JUNOT.  157 


The  next  morning  at  six  she  heard  steps  in  the 
corridor,  and  some  one  knocked  at  the  door.  No  one 
opened  it.  He  knocked  again.  The  maid  said,  "  I 
can't  open  the  door;  Madame  Junot  has  taken  the 
key."  He  went  away  without  any  answer,  and 
Madame  Junot  breathed  again.  In  a  few  moments 
she  had  fallen  asleep,  but  she  was  soon  aroused  again, 
lor  the  door  was  opened,  and  Bonaparte,  who  had 
entered  with  a  pass-key,  appeared :  "  Are  you  afraid 
you  will  be  murdered,"  he  said.  "  We  hunt  at  But- 
lard  to-morrow,  you  know.  We  shall  start  early, 
and  to  make  sure  that  you  are  ready,  I  shall  come 
myself  to  wake  you.  Since  you  are  not  among  a 
band  of  Tartars,  you  need  not  lock  yourself  up  as 
you  have  done.  Then,  too,  3-011  see  that  all  your 
precautions  against  an  old  friend  don't  prevent  his 
getting  to  you.  Good-by !  "  And  he  went  off,  but 
this  time  he  did  not  sing. 

Madame  Junot  was  in  despair.  The  First  Consul 
left  her  room  at  the  moment  when  the  servant- 
women  were  passing  through  the  corridor  about 
their  work.  What  would  they  say  about  a  young 
woman  who  receives  visitors  at  that  hour  of  the 
morning?  It  would  be  more  than  imprudent  to  stay 
at  Malmaison ;  but  to  leave  would  offend  the  First 
Consul,  distress  Madame  Louis  Bonaparte,  arouse 
Junot's  suspicions,  and  give  rise  to  malicious  com- 
ments. The  poor  young  woman  was  sadly  perplexed, 
when  suddenly  she  felt  two  arms  embracing  her  ten- 
derly and  heard  a  well-known  voice  saying,  "What 


158  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

is  the  matter,  Laure?"  This  time  it  was  not  the 
First  Consul,  but  Junot,  who  had  come  out  to  pass 
the  day  at  Malmaison,  and  was  much  surprised  to 
find  his  wife  so  agitated.  "  My  dear,  I  want  to  go 
away ;  I  want  to  go  back  to  Paris."  "  Oh,  you  may 
be  sure  that  as  soon  as  Madame  Bonaparte  returns 
from  Plombieres,  I  shall  take  you  away."  "But 
why  not  now?"  "Now?  Before  she  gets  back? 
Nonsense,  my  dear  child."  Madame  Junot  did  not 
insist.     Her  plan  was  made. 

That  evening  Junot  dined  at  the  table  of  the  First 
Consul,  who  was  most  gay  and  agreeable,  and  after 
dinner  he  took  leave  to  return  to  the  city;  for  as 
governor  he  was  unable  to  be  absent  a  single  night. 
Before  leaving  he  went  up  to  his  wife's  room  for  a 
moment,  and  she,  by  dint  of  entreaties  and  endear- 
ments, succeeded  in  persuading  him,  in  spite  of 
orders,  to  spend  the  night. 

The  next  morning  Madame  Junot  awoke  just  as 
five  was  striking.  Everything  was  calm  and  silent 
in  the  beautiful  light  of  early  morning ;  and  as  she 
gazed  at  her  husband,  and  saw  the  glorious  scars 
upon  his  brow,  she  felt  safe,  and  thought  to  herself, 
"  I  don't  fear  anything ;  he  will  protect  me." 

At  that  moment  the  door  was  opened  violently. 
"  What,  still  asleep,  Madame  Junot,  when  we  are 
going  hunting ! "  She  recognized  the  voice  of  the 
First  Consul ;  and  he  came  forward,  pushed  aside 
the  bed-curtain,  and  stood  motionless  with  surprise 
as   his   eye   fell   on   his   companion-in-arms.      Junot 


MADAME  JUNOT.  15fl 


started  up,  quite  as  much  surprised.  "  Heavens, 
general !  what  are  you  doing  in  a  lady's  room  at 
this  hour  of  the  day  ?  "  The  First  Consul  answered 
in  the  same  tone,  "  I  came  to  wake  up  Madame  Junot 
in  time  for  the  hunt.  ...  I  might  find  fault,  for, 
M.  Junot,  you  are  here  in  disobedience  to  orders." 
"General,"'  said  the  governor  of  Paris,  "if  there  ever 
was  fault  that  deserved  to  be  pardoned,  it  is  this. 
If  you  had  seen  this  little  siren  for  a  full  hour  last 
evening  trying  to  persuade  me  to  stay,  I  am  sure  you 
would  forgive  me."'  "  Well,  I  pardon  you  com- 
pletely," answered  Bonaparte ;  "  and  to  show  that  I 
am  not  angry,  I  will  let  you  come  to  the  hunt  with  us." 
And  with  these  words  he  left  the  room.  "  Upon  my 
word,"  said  Junot,  arising,  "he  is  an  excellent  man. 
What  kindness  !  instead  of  finding  fault,  or  sending 
me  back  to  Paris.  You  must  confess,  Laure,  that 
he  is  really  far  above  ordinary  mortals." 

When  they  were  starting  for  the  hunt,  and  keep- 
ers, horses,  dogs,  and  carriages  were  all  assembled 
before  the  castle,  and  Junot  was  choosing  a  horse, 
his  wife  got  into  a  small  barouche  with  the  First 
Consul.  Soon  they  were  off,  and  the  following  dia- 
logue took  place:  "Madame,  you  think  yourself  very 
intelligent,  do  you  not?"  "Oh!  not  extraordinarily 
intelligent;  but  I  don't  think  I  am  a  fool."  "A  fool, 
no ;  but  a  goose.  Can  you  tell  me  why  you  made 
your  husband  stay?"  "My  explanation  will  be 
short  and  clear,  general.  He  is  my  husband  ;  and 
there  is  no  offence,  I  suppose,  in  a  husband's  staying 


100  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

with  his  wife."  "  Then  you  had  no  other  reason 
than  your  affection  for  him  when  you  asked  him  to 
stay  ?  "  "  No,  general."  "  You  are  not  telling  the 
truth.  ...  I  know  why  you  did  so  :  you  distrusted 
me,  as  you  should  not  have  done.  Ah,  you  see  you 
don't  answer !  "  "  And  if  I  had  another  motive  than 
this  distrust  of  which  you  speak;  if  I  knew  that 
your  visits  at  such  an  hour  in  the  room  of  a  woman 
of  my  age  would  compromise  me  in  the  eyes  of  those 
who  are  here  with  me,  and  if  I  had  taken  this  means 
to  stop  them  "  —  "  If  that  is  the  case,  why  didn't 
you  speak  to  me?  Have  I  not  in  the  last  week 
shown  friendliness  enough  to  deserve  your  confi- 
dence ?  The  next  step  would  have  been,  doubtless, 
to  tell  Junot  what  you  had  imagined."  "  Heavens, 
general !  how  could  such  an  idea  occur  to  you, 
knowing  him  as  you  do?  He  is  as  violent  as  Othello. 
If  I  had  told  Junot  all  that  has  happened  in  the  last 
week,  neither  he  nor  I  would  be  here  this  morning." 
"  Won't  you,  then,  believe  that  I  mean  you  no 
harm?"  "  Certainly,  general;  I  am  so  sure  that 
you  do  not  mean  me  ill,  that  I  can  assure  you  that 
my  attachment  for  you,  which  dates  from  my  child- 
hood, and  my  admiration,  are  not  in  the  least  dimin- 
ished; and  there  is  my  hand  in  token." 

After  a  moment's  hesitation  the  First  Consul  took 
off  his  glove  and  held  out  his  hand  to  Madame  Junot, 
saying,  "You  must  believe  in  my  friendship  for  you  ; 
it  depended  only  on  you  to  make  it  something  solid. 
And  yet  you  wish   to  leave   Malmaison  ?  "     "  Yes, 


MADAME  JUXOT.  161 


general,  after  the  hunt.  I  have  persuaded  Junot  to 
take  me  away."  "And  when  shall  you  be  back?'' 
"  When  I  am  needed  for  the  play,  general ;  but  you 
can  dispose  of  my  room ;  I  shall  not  occupy  it  any 
longer,  I  assure  you."  "As  you  please.  Besides, 
you  are  right  in  going  away  this  morning ;  after  this 
stupid  business  you  and  I  could  have  no  pleasure  in 
meeting."  And,  opening  the  door  of  the  barouche 
with  his  own  hand,  Bonaparte  sprang  out,  got  on  a 
horse,  and  galloped  away.  That  same  afternoon  M. 
and  Mme.  Junot  were  back  in  Paris. 

This  adventure  at  Malmaison,  thus  recounted  by 
Madame  Junot,  makes  an  admirable  pendant  to  the 
adventure  at  the  camp  at  Barlogue,  told  by  Madame 
de  Re*musat.  At  heart  both  of  these  ladies  were  glad 
to  carry  the  impression  that  Napoleon  felt  a  tender 
interest  in  them,  and  with  a  little  coquetry  they 
could  have  made  a  conquest  of  the  conqueror.  They 
insinuate  that  their  virtue  alone  forbade  this  victory. 
However  this  may  be,  if  we  suppose  that  the  First 
Consul's  affection  for  Madame  Junot  was  purely 
fraternal,  —  paternal  I  cannot  say,  for  Bonaparte  was 
then  but  thirty  years  old,  —  we  must  confess  that 
were  he  another  Scipio,  his  conduct  was  not  prudent, 
and  that  his  choice  of  working-room  exposed  him  to 
a  temptation  to  which  even  a  consul  might  succumb. 
Madame  Junot  did  well  to  leave  Malmaison.  Some 
people  pretend  that  this  incident  is  the  reason  why 
her  husband  was  never  made  a  Marshal  of  France, 
but  it  seems  incredible  that  Napoleon  should  not  be 


162  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

above  such  petty  spite.  At  any  rate,  the  Duchess  of 
Abrant&s  and  the  Countess  de  Re'musat  show  us  how 
Napoleon  treated  women,  with  a  mixture  of  rough- 
ness and  amiability ;  gallantry  he  never  showed.  In 
fact,  he  feared  them  more  than  he  loved  them;  it 
touched  his  pride  to  think  that  he  might  be  subject 
to  their  influence.  If  Madame  Junot  had  fallen  in 
love  with  the  First  Consul,  she  would  not  have  been 
his  mistress ;  he  would  have  been  her  master.  He 
might  have  had  a  caprice  for  her;  he  would  never 
have  loved  hei\ 

A  few  days  after  the  incident  recounted  above, 
Madame  Junot  went  out  to  Malmaison  to  make  a 
visit  to  Josephine,  who  had  just  returned  from  Plom- 
bieres.  She  stayed  to  dinner,  and  at  ten  o'clock 
asked  for  her  carriage.  Just  as  she  was  about  to 
start,  a  terrible  thunder-storm  arose.  "  I  sha'n't  let 
you  go,  in  weather  like  this !  "  said  Josephine,  "  I 
will  go  and  have  a  room  made  ready  for  you"  ;  and 
she  started  to  the  door  to  give  her  orders.  Madame 
Junot  stopped  her,  on  the  pretext  that  she  had  no 
clothes  and  no  maid.  "  I  will  lend  you  one  of  my 
nightcaps,  and  everything  that  you  want,"  replied 
Josephine,  "  and  one  of  my  maids  shall  wait  upon 
you.  Come,  you  will  stay,  won't  you  ?  Besides,  how 
could  you  get  through  the  woods  at  this  hour?  It 
wouldn't  be  safe.  You  know  how  dangerous  the 
Bonjeval  woods  are."  Meanwhile,  the  First  Consul 
was  standing  by  the  fireplace,  busily  arranging  a  log 
with  the  tongs,  and  taking  no  part  in  the  conversa- 


MADAME  JUXOT.  1G3 

tion.  As  Madame  Bonaparte  renewed  her  entreaties, 
he  said,  still  holding  the  tongs,  "  Don't  torment  her 
any  longer,  Josephine  :  I  know  her ;  she  won't  stay." 

If  we  have  dwelt  perhaps  too  long  on  this  anec- 
dote, it  has  been  to  give  a  definite  notion  of  the  way 
in  which  these  Memoirs  of  the  Duchess  of  Abrantes 
are  written.  Doubtless  they  bear  traces  of  the  haste 
in  which  they  were  composed ;  they  contain  many 
errors,  and  are  inexact ;  many  of  the  conversations 
are  more  fictitious  than  real,  and  belong  to  romance 
rather  than  to  history ;  there  is  a  good  deal  of  pad- 
ding, and  much  ore  by  the  side-  of  the  gold.  But  in 
spite  of  these  faults,  there  is  a  charm  and  abundant 
life  and  animation  in  this  collection  of  the  pictures 
of  so  many  illustrious  persons.  The  Duchess  de- 
scribes a  play  that  she  has  seen  from  the  boxes. 
When  she  describes  the  Parisian  drawing-rooms,  of 
which  she  was  one  of  the  main  ornaments,  she  can 
say  "et  quorum  pars  magna  fui."  If  her  Memoirs 
had  been  more  formally  written,  they  would  have 
been  less  agreeable  reading  :  their  faults,  their  care- 
lessness even,  only  add  to  the  charm.  They  are  like 
an  easily  flowing  conversation,  in  turn  serious  and 
idle,  sad  and  gay,  ironical  and  enthusiastic.  That  is 
the  way  a  great  lady  talks  whose  smile  and  tears 
are  always  charming,  who  makes  delicate  fun  of 
absurdities,  and  is  eloquently  indignant  with  petti- 
ness and  meanness.  The  reader  perceives  her  love 
for  everything  fine,  for  letters,  for  love,  for  glory. 

Like  Madame  de  Re'musat,  she  was  an  eve-witness 


164  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIB  ST  CONSUL. 

of  the  reaction  in  Parisian  society  against  the  glories 
of  the  Consulate  and  the  Empire,  but  she  reacted 
against  this  tendency.  Her  friend,  the  great  novelist 
Balzac,  but  for  whom,  it  is  said,  she  would  never 
have  written  the  Memoirs,  strongly  urged  her  to 
remain  faithful  to  her  Memoirs,  and  sometimes  to  rise 
into  the  region  of  poetry.  Hence  the  pages  of  real  in- 
spiration that  intersperse  the  pages  of  trifling  anec- 
dotes and  boudoir  gossip.  And  when  the  Duchess 
recalls  the  springtime  of  her  life,  those  happy  hours 
when  France  was  great  and  glorious,  her  language 
glows  with  the  fire  of  enthusiasm.  "  My  country," 
she  writes,  "  my  beloved  country  !  My  country ! 
There  is  a  magic  charm  in  the  letters  composing  this 
and  which  is  like  the  name  of  the  being  we  love.  .  .  . 
When  I  recall  those  glorious  days  —  the  laurels  where- 
of were  fed  with  the  blood  of  him  whose  name  I  bear 
—  my  soul,  overwhelmed  by  so  many  disasters,  both 
public  and  private,  my  heart,  wearied  by  the  long 
silence  of  songs  of  war  and  victory  which  I  heard  in 
my  cradle,  in  my  youth,  in  all  my  life  until  the  days 
of  our  shame,  —  my  soul,  my  heart,  I  say,  are  moved 
anew,  and  I  glow  with  the  pride  which  used  to  make 
us  raise  our  heads  and  say,  '  I  too  am  French.' " 

Is  not  this  fitting  language  for  a  noble  woman, 
who,  in  1814,  when  completely  ruined,  could  have 
secured  for  her  eldest  son  the  very  rich  succession  of 
Aeken,  if  she  had  agreed  to  make  him  change  his 
nationality,  but  who,  preferring  for  him  the  name  of 
"Frenchman"    and   poverty,    refused?      Junot   had 


MADAME  JUS OT.  !♦', 


been  in  possession  of  an  income  of  more  than  a  mil- 
lion of  francs,  and  his  widow  was  penniless;  nothing 
was  left  her  but  her  intelligence  and  her  pride.  Why 
is  there  not  a  new  edition  of  the  eighteen  volumes 
of  her  Memoirs  and  of  the  six  volumes  of  her 
"  History  of  the  Parisian  Drawing-rooms,''  which 
abound  with  original  and  amusing  anecdotes,  and 
with  sketches  and  portraits  drawn  by  a  firm  and 
graceful  hand?  Madame  Amet,  the  worthy  daugh- 
ter of  the  Duchess  of  Abrantes,  who  was  born  at  the 
beginning  of  the  century,  and  remembers  Xapoleon 
and  Josephine,  her  godparents,  could  better  than  any 
one  prepare  the  notes  and  the  Introduction  which 
would  recall  her  mother's  charming  person.  At  once 
an  artist  and  a  fine  lady,  a  woman  of  letters  and 
of  the  drawing-room,  generous  to  a  fault  with  her 
money  and  her  intelligence,  as  cheerful  in  poverty  as 
in  wealth,  as  much  admired  by  Parisian  society  in 
the  humblest  apartment  as  in  her  splendid  mansion 
of  the  rue  des  Champs  Elysdes,  a  noble  nature,  rising 
above  vulgar  ambitions  and  petty  calculations,  the 
Duchess  of  Abrantes  occupies  a  place  apart  in  the 
company  of  the  celebrated  women  of  the  Consulate 
and  the  Empire.  It  is  with  real  emotion  that  one 
reads  the  verses  which  Victor  Iltmo  dedicated  to 
her  memory.  The  woman  who  inspired  that  poet, 
Balzac,  and  so  many  great  writers  with  such  devoted 
friendship,  was  certainly  no  ordinary  woman. 


XIII. 

THE  TE  DEUM   FOR  THE  CONCORDAT. 

MEN'S  decisions  often  rest  on  many  grounds ; 
and  often  when  they  are  thought  to  be  moved 
only  by  calculation,  they  are  moved  quite  as  much 
by  sentiment.  This  was  the  case,  if  we  are  not  mis- 
taken, with  Napoleon,  when  he  brought  about  the 
restoration  of  religion  in  1802.  Above  all  things,  he 
was  a  politician ;  but  besides  being  a  politician,  he 
was  a  Christian.  Doubtless  his  faith  was  not  very 
profound ;  he  did  not  observe  the  forms  of  religion, 
and  he  felt  the  influence  of  the  eighteenth  century 
and  of  the  Revolution.  But  in  spite  of  Voltaire,  he 
had  learned  in  his  infancy  to  respect  Catholicism: 
perhaps  he  was  not  perfectly  sure  that  the  Roman 
Church  was  true ;  but  he  was  less  certain  that  it  was 
false.  The  feeling  which  led  him  to  say  on  his 
death-bed :  "  Not  every  one  who  wants  to  be,  is  an 
atheist,"  makes  itself  clear  with  more  or  less  dis- 
tinctness, as  the  circumstances  determine,  through- 
out his  career.  As  Thiers  said,  "It  is  intelligence 
that  discovers  intelligence  in  the  universe ;  and  a 
great  mind  is  better  capable  than  a  small  one  of  see- 
100 


TTTE  TE  I)EUM  FOR   THE  CONCORDAT.        1G7 

ing  God  in  hi.s  -works."  Bonaparte  was  not  simply 
a  deist ;  there  was  in  his  character  a  deep  stamp  of 
Catholicism.  "When  we  were  at  Malmaison,"  says 
Bourrienne,  ki  and  used  to  walk  in  the  avenue  that 
led  to  Rueil,  the  sound  of  the  village  church-bell 
often  interrupted  our  conversations.  He  would  stop 
in  order  not  to  lose  a  bit  of  the  sound,  which  de- 
lighted him.  It  used  to  move  him  so  deeply  that  he 
would  say :  '  That  reminds  me  of  my  early  years  at 
Brienne.  I  was  happy  at  that  time.'  Then  the  bell 
would  stop,  and  he  would  resume  his  mighty  reve- 
ries." The  sound  of  the  bell  at  Rueil  was  not  with- 
out its  influence  on  the  Concordat. 

According  to  the  "  Memorial,"  Napoleon  said  at 
Saint  Helena  :  "  It  would  be  hard  to  believe  the  resis- 
tance I  met  to  restoring  Catholicism.  I  should  have 
met  with  less  opposition  if  I  had  unfolded  the  ban- 
ners of  Protestantism."  Edgar  Quinet  considers  that 
an  erroneous  assertion.  He  says  that  if  the  First 
Consul  had  tried  to  introduce  into  France  any  relig- 
ious innovations,  he  would  have  been  in  direct  and 
open  contradiction  with  himself ;  and  that  Catholi- 
cism alone  agreed  with  the  form  and  the  logical  cohe- 
rence  of  his  plans.  "  Examine  closely  his  thought," 
adds  Quinet,  "  and  you  will  observe  that  his  ideal  was 
the  Empire  of  Constantine  and  Theodosius,  and  this 
tradition  he  inherited  from  his  ancestors,  like  all  the 
Italian  Ghibellines.  So  far  from  inclining  towards 
the  religious  emancipation  of  the  individual  con- 
science, he  always  had   a  vision    of   a  pope   whose 


168  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

emperor  and  master  he  should  be,  —  a  conception 
which  is  exactly  that  of  the  Ghibellines  and  the  com- 
mentators of  the  Middle  Ages.  From  this  combina- 
tion of  the  Italian  and  the  French  genius  grew  the 
extraordinary  logic  by  which  he  so  easily  drove  back 
France  to  the  political  institutions  of  Charlemagne. 
.  .  .  This  man,  who,  in  so  many  respects,  was  ex- 
tremely modern,  in  others  resembled  a  ruler  of  the 
Middle  Ages,  a  Carlo vingian." 

It  is  certain  that  he  started  from  the  idea  that 
France  having  become  great  by  the  cross  and  the 
sword,  it  was  by  the  cross  and  the  sword  that  it  was 
to  preserve  its  greatness.  And  is  it  not,  indeed,  an 
absolute  law  of  history  that  a  people  preserves  its 
force  only  by  remaining  faithful  to  the  principles  by 
which  it  attained  it  ? 

"  Every  society,"  says  Thiers,  "  demands  a  religious 
belief  and  form  of  worship.  .  .  .  What  better  thing, 
then,  can  a  civilized  society  demand  than  a  national 
religion,  founded  on  the  true  feelings  of  the  human 
heart,  in  harmony  with  the  rules  of  high  morality, 
consecrated  by  time,  and  which,  without  intolerance 
or  persecution,  brings  together,  if  not  all,  at  least 
the  great  majority,  of  the  citizens,  at  the  foot  of  an 
ancient  and  revered  altar  ? "  And  he  goes  on  with 
fervor :  "  It  existed,  this  religion  which  had  brought 
under  its  dominion  all  civilized  peoples,  had  formed 
their  morals,  inspired  their  songs,  furnished  the  sub- 
jects for  their  poetry,  their  pictures,  their  statues,  left 
its  stamp  on  all  their  national  memories,  marked  with 


THE   TE  DEUM  FOIt    THE  CONCORDAT.        160 

its  sign  their  banners  in  turn  vanquished  or  victo- 
rious. It  had  disappeared  for  a  moment  in  a  great 
storm  that  swept  over  men's  minds:  but  when  that 
storm  had  passed,  the  necessity  of  belief  returned, 
and  this  was  again  found  in  every  soul,  the  natural 
and  indispensable  faith  of  France  and  of  Europe.  .  .  . 
What  more  necessary,  more  inevitable,  in  1800,  than 
to  lift  up  the  altar  of  Saint  Louis,  of  Charlemagne, 
and  of  Clovis,  which  had  been  for  a  moment  over- 
thrown ?  " 

Yet  the  First  Consul  needed  rare  perseverance  for 
the  accomplishment  of  such  a  task.  There  are  periods 
when  hypocrisy  is  the  fashion,  but  there  are  others 
when  the  opposite  quality  prevails  —  I  mean  the  fear 
of  man.  This  was  the  case  with  a  large  part  of 
French  society.  The  country  people  remained  Chris- 
tian and  Catholic :  but  in  the  aristocracy,  in  the 
middle  classes,  and  especially  in  the  army,  Voltairian 
ideas  had  made  great  ravages.  It  needed  all  Bona- 
parte's authority  to  silence  the  sarcasms  of  his  gen- 
erals;  and  it  was  not  by  persuasion,  but  rather  by  a 
discipline  of  iron,  that  he  collected  them  about  the 
altar  of  Notre  Dame,  as  if  for  a  review  or  a  parade. 

No  resistance  could  discourage  the  First  Consul, 
because  he  was  convinced  that  Catholicism,  so  far 
from  being  dead,  as  some  people  imagined,  was  still 
living  in  the  habits,  the  civilization,  and  the  inner 
life  of  some  who  called  themselves  its  bitterest  ene- 
mies, lie  did  not  think  its  principles  incompatible 
with  those  of  the  Revolution,  as  it  began,  while  still 


170  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

unstained  by  excesses,  and  he  remembered  that  Pope 
Pius  VII.  had  said  in  a  homily,  December  25,  1797, 
when  he  was  only  Bishop  of  Imola  :  "  Be  good  Chris- 
tians, and  you  will  be  good  democrats.  The  early 
Christians  were  full  of  the  spirit  of  democracy." 
Pius  VII.  sent  to  Paris  Cardinal  Consalvi,  who, 
after  long  and  laborious  negotiations,  concluded  with 
Joseph  Bonaparte,  aided  by  Cre'tet,  Counsellor  of 
State,  and  Abbe*  Bernier,  the  Concordat  of  July  15, 
1801.  It  was  presented  to  the  legislative  bodies 
along  with  the  laws  concerning  the  Catholic  worship, 
and  the  various  Protestant  forms,  April  8,  1802,  and 
was  adopted  without  discussion.  Ten  days  later,  on 
Easter  Sunday,  the  First  Consul  determined  to  have 
a  great  religious  ceremony  take  place  at  Notre  Dame, 
and  one  which  also  had  its  worldly  side. 

Bonaparte  wished  on  the  same  day  to  ratify  at  the 
Tuileries  the  treaty  of  Berlin,  and  to  be  present,  at 
Notre  Dame,  at  the  mass  and  Te  Deum  for  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Concordat.  He  left  his  palace  in 
great  pomp.  Officials  of  all  kinds  and  a  brilliant 
staff  escorted  him.  Josephine,  who  accompanied 
him,  was  also  numerously  attended  by  the  prettiest 
and  most  fashionable  laches  of  Paris.  The  troops 
formed  two  linos  between  the  palace  and  the  cathe- 
dral. Everywhere  the  crowd  assembled  to  see  the 
First  Consul,  whose  red  coat  attracted  every  eye.  On 
reaching  Notre  Dame,  he  descended  slowly  from  his 
carriage,  and  was  received  at  the  door  by  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Paris,  who  presented  him  with  holy  water, 


THE   TE  DEUM  FOR   THE  CONCORDAT.        171 

and  led  him  under  a  canopy  to  the  place  reserved  for 
him  in  the  choir,  near  the  high  altar.  Behind  him, 
the  generals,  in  full  uniform,  stood  throughout  the 
long  ceremony.  The  members  of  the  Senate,  the 
legislative  body,  and  the  Tribunate,  were  placed  on 
each  side  of  the  altar. 

At  that  time  there  was  in  Notre  Dame  a  superb 
roodloft,  of  Gothic  construction,  and  most  pictur- 
esque. It  was  from  this  that  Madame  Bonaparte  and 
her  suite  witnessed  the  ceremony.  There  were  about 
eighty  of  these  ladies ;  more  than  two-thirds  of  them 
were  under  twenty,  many  were  not  over  sixteen.  A 
great  number  were  very  pretty.  The  Duchess  of 
Abrantes  recalls  this  solemn  day  with  great  satisfac- 
tion in  her  Memoirs,  and  describes  it  as  one  would 
do  it  nowadays.  "  I  still  remember,"  she  says,  "Ma- 
dame Murat's  dress,  with  her  pink  satin  hat,  sur- 
mounted by  a  tuft  of  feathers  of  the  same  color,  and 
how  fresh,  rosy,  and  spring-like  her  face  appeared 
beneath  it.  She  wore  a  dress  of  India  muslin,  with 
wonderful  openwork  embroidery,  and  lined  with  pink 
satin  matching  her  hat.  Over  her  shoulders  was  a 
mantilla  of  Brussels  lace,  with  which  her  dress  was 
trimmed.  No  mundane  festival  was  more  magnifi- 
cent than  this  religious  one;  and  while  the  thoughts 
of  the  pious  turned  to  their  Creator,  it  was  in  His 
creatures  that  the  free-thinking  generals  most  inter- 
ested themselves,  and  many  of  them,  standing  behind 
the  First  Consul,  and  so  in  no  dread  of  his  eyes, 
acted  unbecomingly. 


172  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIEST  CONSUL. 


"  Many  young  women,"  the  Duchess  goes  on, 
"took  their  degrees  in  beauty  on  that  day.  There 
were  many  who  were  known  to  be  pretty  and  charm- 
ing, but  there  was  also  a  large  number  who  could 
scarcely  be  distinguished  at  the  vast  entertainments 
of  Quintidi  [the  fifth  day  of  the  decade],  while  at 
Notre  Dame,  with  the  sun  blazing  through  the  col- 
ored glass,  these  young  faces  shone  with  marvellous 
beauty ;  nothing  was  lost.  The  First  Consul  noticed 
it  and  spoke  about  it  that  same  evening."  The  rood- 
loft  of  Notre  Dame,  April  18,  1802,  is  a  subject  that 
may  be  recommended  to  an  historical  painter. 

The  ceremony  was  really  magnificent,  as  became 
a  nation  which  is  both  religious  and  warlike.  The 
clatter  of  arms,  the  sound  of  the  organ,  the  salvos  of 
artillery,  which  from  daybreak  had  rattled  every 
window,  the  chants  which  rose  beneath  the  vaulted 
roof  of  the  old  cathedral,  the  smell  of  powder  min- 
gling with  that  of  the  incense,  the  gilded  uniforms  by 
the  side  of  the  rich  chasubles  of  the  priests,  —  all  this 
pomp  delighted  the  populace  of  Paris,  which  is  always 
eager  for  great  shows.  It  was  observed  that  luxury 
and  elegance  had  made  great  strides  since  General 
Bonaparte  had  made  his  solemn  entrance  into  the 
Tuileries.  Then  there  had  been  in  the  procession 
almost  nothing  but  cabs  with  their  numbers  hidden 
by  bits  of  paper,  and  now  there  were  handsome  pri- 
vate carriages,  as  fine  as  those  of  the  old  regime, 
following  the  First  Consul's  coach.  The  servants  of 
the  principal  officials  were  for  the  first  time  in  livery ; 


THE   TE  DEl'M  FOR    THE   CONCORDAT.         17o 


and  the  crowd,  instead  of  denouncing  this  return  to 
monarchical  ways,  took  a  childish  delight  in  it.  That 
evening  the  members  of  the  Diplomatic  Body  dined  at 
M.  de  Talleyrand's,  the  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs; 
there  was  an  illumination  and  a  concert  in  the  Tum- 
eric's garden,  and  in  the  palace  Cardinal  Caprara^ 
the  Archbishop  of  Paris,  and  the  highest  ecclesiastics 
dined  at  the  table  of  the  First  Consul,  who  had  a 
long  and  friendly  talk  with  the  First  Consul,  con- 
gratulating himself  on  the  great  success  of  the  day. 

There  was  only  one  flaw,  and  that  was  the  attitude 
of  a  great  many  of  the  officers.  Paris  was  full  of 
them;  they  found  the  calm  of  peace  unendurable; 
and  since  they  were  still  faithful  to  the  principles  of 
the  Revolution,  they  were  indignant  with  the  reac- 
tion which  was  led  by  Bonaparte.  This  was  the 
feeling  of  especially  the  old  officers  of  the  Army  of 
the  Rhine,  who  had  always  been  jealous  of  the  Army 
of  Italy,  and  who  had  gathered  around  the  discon- 
tented generals,  like  Moreau.  The  venerable  General 
de  Se'gur  has  left  in  his  Memoirs  traces  of  the  im- 
pression made  upon  him  and  many  of  his  comrades  by 
the  events  of  April  18.1802.  ••  I  heard  the  clamor, 
but  without  sufficiently  disapproving  its  malignity:  at 
Notre  Dame  I  saw  their  indignation  on  the  occasion 
of  the  Te  Deuni  for  the  Concordat.  On  that  day  I 
did  not  sufficiently  condemn  Dalmas's  retort  to  Bona- 
parte: "Yes,  it  was  indeed  noble  mummery!  The 
only  pity  is  that  there  weren't  present  about  a  thou- 
sand of  the  men  who  got  killed  in  overthrowing  what 


174  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

you  are  re-establishing.'  The  brutal  impertinence 
which  was  uttered  by  many  other  generals  at  the 
Tuileries,  and  even  within  Napoleon's  hearing,  dis- 
pleased me  without  doubt,  but  less  than  it  should 
have  done.  I  acknowledge  that  in  the  cathedral  my 
attitude  was  not  the  most  reverent,  and  I  remember 
that  as  the  procession  was  passing  the  Palais  Royal 
on  its  way  home,  near  a  group  of  officers  with  whom 
I  was  standing,  our  disdainful  bearing  in  response 
to  the  repeated  salutes  of  the  First  Consul  could  not 
have  satisfied  him." 

Bonaparte  was  not  made  uneasy  by  these  signs  of 
opposition,  for  he  had  determined  to  crush  any  show 
of  resistance.  Congratulatory  addresses  on  the  Con- 
cordat reached  him  from  every  quarter.  "  You  will 
see,"  he  told  Bourrienne,  "  how  much  I  shall  get  out 
of  the  priests."  The  Royalists  lost  their  only  claim 
to  popularity,  and  the  hierarchy  of  the  Church  was  for- 
mally placed  in  the  hands  of  the  authorities.  There 
appeared  at  this  time  in  the  windows  of  every  book- 
shop an  engraving  representing  the  triumph  of  re- 
ligion in  France  over  the  atheism  of  the  Revolution ; 
the  cross  was  upheld  by  Bonaparte's  sword,  and  below 
was  this  inscription  :  "  The  28th  Germinal,  year  X. 
of  the  French  Republic  (April  18,  1802),  Easter 
Sunday,  by  the  triumphant  arm  of  Napoleon  Bona- 
parte, First  Consul  of  France,  religion  arises  from 
the  abyss  into  which  impious  atheists  had  hurled 
it;  Cardinal  Caprara,  legate,  with  plenipotentiary 
powers  from   the  Pope,  to  the   French  government, 


THE   TE  DEUM  FOR    THE   COXCORDAT.        17') 

celebrated  mass  in  the  cathedral  church  of  Notre 
Dame,  in  presence  of  the  three  Consuls  and  all  the 
regular  authorities."  At  the  same  time  a  sonnet  was 
circulated,  which  ended  thus  :  — 

He  restores  to  France  a  solemn  harmony, 
Makes  peace  with  all  the  world  besides, 
Placing  it  in  triumph  at  the  feet  of  the  Eternal. 

The  followers  of  Voltaire  had  retorted  by  secretly 
circulating  a  caricature  of  the  First  Consul,  repre- 
senting him  as  drowning  in  a  basin  of  holy  water, 
with  bishops  pushing  him  back  into  the  water  with 
their  crosiers.  In  spite  of  these  isolated  sarcasms, 
the  religious  reaction  was  complete;  the  offices  were 
empty  on  Sunday  ;  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  celebrated 
mass  at  the  Tuileries ;  the  Bishop  of  Versailles,  in 
the  presence  of  the  authorities,  solemnly  consecrated 
the  chapel  of  the  School  of  Saint  Cyr;  and  advantage 
was  taken  of  the  moment  to  inaugurate  a  monument, 
already  constructed,  to  Madame  de  Maintenon,  with 
this  pious  inscription  :  — 

She  established  Saint  Cyr,  to  the  edification  of  France; 
Her  tomb  was  destroyed,  her  corpse  insulted. 
Youth  laments  this,  and  gratitude 
Raises  a  new  tomb  to  her  avenged  shade. 

The  clergy  harmonized  with  the  government  ;  and 
the  First  Consul  presented  to  a  number  of  bishops 
an  episcopal  ring,  in  token  of  his  satisfaction  with 
the  return  of  peace. 

Chateaubriand's  "  Genius  of  Christianity"  appeared 


176  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

at  the  moment  when  the  Concordat  was  announced, 
and,  as  M.  de  Villemain  has  said,  "  No  book  has  ever 
appeared  at  a  happier  moment,  or  was  ever  helped 
by  more  varied  influences,  by  the  political  situation, 
by  blind  faith,  by  interest,  or  by  more  conflicting  pas- 
sions." Later,  in  his  edition  of  1828,  he  said,  "  The 
'  Genius  of  Christianity '  was  full  of  the  spirit  of  the 
old  monarchy;  the  legitimate  heir  lay,  so  to  speak, 
beneath  the  sanctuary,  the  veil  of  which  I  lifted,  and 
the  crown  of  Saint  Louis  hung  above  the  altar  of  the 
God  of  Saint  Louis."  This  phrase  did  very  well  for 
the  reign  of  Charles  X.,  but  certainly  Chateaubriand 
would  not  have  written  it  in  1802  or  1803.  Then, 
he  dedicated  his  book  to  Bonaparte,  and  to  Bonaparte 
he  addressed  this  enthusiastic  eulogy  :  "  In  your  des- 
tiny we  see  the  hand  of  Providence,  who  had  chosen 
you  from  afar  for  the  accomplishment  of  his  mighty 
plans.  Whole  peoples  are  regarding  you;  France, 
augmented  by  your  victories,  has  placed  its  hope  in 
you,  since  it  is  on  religion  that  you  establish  the 
State  and  your  own  prosperity.  Continue  to  hold 
out  a  helping  hand  to  thirty  million  of  Christians 
who  pray  for  you  at  the  foot  of  the  altars  you  have 
restored  to  them."  Bonaparte  said  that  he  had  never 
been  better  praised. 

So  the  First  Consul  appeared  to  France  and  to 
Europe  in  the  light  of  the  protector  and  restorer  of 
religion  ;  but,  strangely  enough,  at  the  moment  when 
he  was  so  much  occupied  with  matters  of  the  Church, 
talked  theology  like  a  doctor,  and  was  trying  to  give 


THE   TE    DEUM   FOB   THE  COyt'ORDAT.        1 


peace  to  men's  consciences,  he  made  no  attempt  to 
bring  his  own  situation  into  conformity  with  the  rules 
of  the  Church,  and  notwithstanding  his  wife's  earnest 
solicitations,  his  marriage  continued  to  be  merely  a 
civil  one.  While  Josephine  appeared  with  the  maj- 
esty of  a  queen  in  the  roodloft  of  Xotre  Dame,  slit- 
was,  from  a  religious  point  of  view,  not  his  legal 
wife.  Does  not  this  state  of  affairs  show  the  eon- 
fusion  which  the  Revolution  had  wrought,  and  the 
very  strange  anomalies  resulting  from  it  ?  Madame 
Bonaparte  was  not  very  pious,  but  she  was  not  with- 
out religious  feeling;  and  she  suffered  as  a  Christian 
and  a  woman.  The  ceremony  at  Xotre  Dame,  recall- 
ing, as  it  did.  the  memories  of  her  happy  infancy, 
tilled  her  with  apprehensions  regarding  her  present 
situation,  which  seemed  so  enviable. 


XIV. 

JOSEPHINE  AND   THE  EOYALISTS. 

AT  the  present  time  the  Faubourg  Saint  Ger- 
main has  lost  its  ancient  character.  Its  famous 
mansions  have  disappeared;  boulevards  run  through 
it  in  every  direction.  The  great  families  who  used 
to  control  it  have  made  numerous  alliances  with  the 
middle  classes.  They  have  broken  away  from  their 
traditions  by  giving  allegiance  to  Napoleon  I.,  to 
Louis  Philippe,  and  to  Napoleon  III.,  and  with  their 
prejudices  they  have  lost  the  feeling  of  caste  which 
was  their  strength  and  their  pride. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  century,  the  French  nobil- 
ity presented  a  very  different  aspect.  It  remained 
standing  on  a  heap  of  ruins.  But  a  few  years  sepa- 
rated it  from  the  period  of  its  greatest  prosperity  and 
splendor,  and  it  had  shown  abundant  energy  amid 
the  catastrophes  and  terrible  trials  it  had  passed 
through.  As  General  de  Sdgur  has  put  it,  what 
other  body,  attacked  in  the  same  way,  beaten  and 
scattered,  could  have  shown  itself  so  compact,  so 
persistent  in  its  sentiments,  and  have  displayed  an 
equally  firm  resistance  to  such  misfortunes  ? 

178 


JOSEPHISE  AST)   THE  ROYALISTS.  IT'J 


To  return  home  under  false  names  or  with  false 
passports,  to  be  obliged  to  solicit  repeatedly  the 
removal  of  their  names  from  the  list  of  dmigrds,  to 
find  their  houses  and  lands  in  the  possession  of 
strangers,  to  pass  every  day  the  spot  where  their 
relatives  and  friends  had  been  put  to  death,  was 
surely  a  sad  fate.  But  the  nobles,  if  they  were  un- 
happy, did  not  think  themselves  humiliated.  Their 
sufferings  raised  them  in  their  own  estimation.  Their 
magnificent  mansions  in  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain 
no  longer  belonged  to  them,  but  they  were  uninjured, 
and  every  one  pointed  them  out  as  the  property  of 
their  old  owners.  Always  proud  and  convinced  of 
their  rights,  they  regarded  the  Revolution  as  a  pass- 
ing evil,  and  the  purchasers  of  the  national  property 
as  thieves.  They  said  that  their  emigration,  so  far 
from  being  a  crime,  had  been  their  only  safety ;  and 
they  added  that  if  those  who  left  had  been  robbed, 
those  who  stayed  at  home  had  been  put  to  death. 
As  to  the  words  liberty,  the  rights  of  the  people, 
they  only  sneered  at  them,  and  all  the  more  because 
the  government  treated  as  fanatics  the  men  who 
still  fanned  the  passions  of  the  Revolution. 

Unable  to  use  their  swords  or  their  rapiers,  the 
e'migre's  returned  to  France,  with  sarcasm  on  their 
lips,  and  avenged  the  work  of  the  executioner's  axe 
by  their  dexterity  with  a  light  but  deadly  weapon. — 
ridicule.  Ruined  as  they  were,  they  yet  preserved 
in  their  distress  the  privilege  of  setting  the  fashion. 
They  ironically  compared  the  rude  ways  of  the  new 


180  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIB  ST  CONSUL. 

men  with  the  graceful  and  delicate  manners  of  the 
old  regime,  and  pursued  with  their  jests  the  Turcarets 
of  the  Revolution,  the  upstarts,  the  men  who,  to 
employ  Talleyrand's  expression,  did  not  know  how  to 
walk  on  a  waxed  floor.  The  First  Consul  and  the 
army  itself  were  not  spared  in  their  sarcasm.  In  their 
eyes,  as  General  de  Se"gur  said,  the  immortal  exploits 
of  the  Republican  soldiers  were  nothing  but  triumphs 
of  brute  force,  a  sort  of  savage,  false,  illegitimate 
glory,  a  usurpation  of  old  and  imprescriptible  rights. 
"  Such,"  he  adds,  "  were  the  perfectly  natural  feelings 
of  the  survivors  of  this  cruelly  decimated  class.  Their 
influence  was  diminished,  but  they  preserved  the  feel- 
ing of  caste  which  is  the  most  persistent  and  the 
most  powerful  of  all  forms  of  party-spirit ;  for  family 
and  social  relations,  hereditary  habits  of  rule,  and  a 
sensitive  regard  for  points  of  honor,  pride,  and  preten- 
sions to  exclusiveness,  become  a  second  nature,  com- 
posed of  all  the  interests  and  all  the  passions  which 
most  surely  control  men's  hearts." 

In  spite  of  their  haughtiness,  the  e'migre's  were 
obliged  to  draw  nearer  and  nearer  to  Bonaparte  ;  but 
in  1802  they  contented  themselves  with  paying  their 
court  to  Josephine,  in  obtaining  through  her  the 
restitution  of  all  or  part  of  their  property,  or  per- 
mission for  a  relation  or  friend  to  return  to  France. 
Women  like  to  protect,  and  to  confer  rather  than 
receive  a  kindness.  It  was  with  keen  pleasure  that 
Josephine  found  herself  sought  after  by  people  of  the 
old  regime,  who  still  refused  to  bow  before  her  hus- 


JOSEPIHSE  A. XI)    THE  ROYALISTS.  1*1 


hand,  and  who  used  to  conic  to  call  on  her  in  the 
morning,  in  her  apartment  on  the  ground  floor  of  the 
Tuileries,  at  the  same  time  boasting  that  they  had 
never  set  foot  on  the  grand  staircase  of  the  palace. 
These  delicate  distinctions  are  amusing,  and  it  was 
clear  to  every  intelligent  observer  that  the  nobility 
was  anxious  to  move  slowly,  but  that  soon  it  would 
be  very  glad  to  appear  in  the  rooms  of  the  powerful 
dispenser  of  places  and  wealth.  Bonaparte  might 
have  taken  umbrage  at  the  attitude  of  these  people, 
who  undertook  to  draw  a  line  between  his  wife  and 
him  ;  but  he  knew  men,  and  he  foresaw  all  the  flat- 
tery and  obsequiousness  of  the  Empire  after  the 
Concordat.  Already  men  of  the  most  diverse  parties 
met  within  the  walls  of  the  Tuileries,  on  the  ground 
floor,  —  the  members  of  the  old  regime,  the  great  lords 
and  tine  ladies  of  the  court  of  Versailles ;  on  the  first 
floor,  the  generals,  the  ministers,  the  members  of  the 
Convention,  the  men  of  the  Revolution.  The  time 
was  drawing  near  when  they  all  were  to  meet  in  the 
same  vestibule  and  ascend  the  same  staircase.  Bona- 
parte was  convinced  that  soon  he  should  be  able  to 
mingle  in  his  palace  marquises  with  regicides,  and 
establish  a  rivalry  of  interested  homage  and  flattery 
to  be  rewarded  by  gold  and  honors.  Hence  he  per- 
mitted Josephine  to  pass  her  time  with  Royalists, 
and  congratulated  himself  on  this  aid  to  his  plans  of 
fusion  and  unity. 

In  fact,  there  were   two  men  in  Bonaparte.  —  the 
aristocrat  and  the  democrat.    Bv  birth,  education,  and 


182  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

his  start  in  the  army,  he  was  an  aristocrat;  later,  he 
became  a  democrat,  more  from  policy  than  from  con- 
viction; and  if  not  really,  at  least  apparently,  he  had 
identified  himself  with  the  most  ardent  Republican 
enthusiasm.  This  double  nature  betrayed  itself  in 
his  words  and  his  deeds.  Jacobins  and  Royalists  were 
successively  the  object  of  his  anger.  The  Legiti- 
mists filled  him  alternately  with  sympathy  and  with 
contempt.  In  the  presence  of  great  nobles  he  remem- 
bered his  coat-of-arms ;  when  with  his  soldiers,  he 
used  to  say,  "  My  nobility  dates  from  Arcole  and  Ma- 
rengo." In  his  heart  he  dreaded  the  Bourbons,  and 
had  an  instinctive  fear  of  their  return.  The  former 
royal  pupil,  the  officer  of  the  armies  of  his  very 
Christian  Majesty,  recalled  the  white  flag  amid  the 
triumphs  of  the  tricolor.  Louis  XVIIL,  forgotten, 
poor,  abandoned,  as  he  was,  disturbed  him;  and  the 
omnipotent  First  Consul  would  have  gladly  treated 
with  this  Pretender,  whose  only  weapon  was  a  princi- 
ple. He  was  proud  of  his  relations  with  the  Bourbon 
monarchies  of  Spain  and  Naples,  and  he  was  flattered 
by  the  thought  that  he  had  set  a  descendant  of  Henry 
IV.  and  Louis  XIV.  on  the  throne  of  Etruria.  Just 
as  a  tribune  often  exults  in  the  conquest  of  a  great 
lady,  so  this  Republican  general  gloried  in  his  victory 
over  the  French  nobility. 

Yet  there  were  in  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain 
many  causes  of  uneasiness.  If  he  was  less  in  awe  of 
the  men  because  he  could  readily  punish  them,  he 
feared  the  women,  for  they  could  more  easily  defy  his 


JOSEPHINE  AND    THE  ROYALISTS.  183 

power.  An  outbreak  would  not  have  disturbed  him, 
but  the  opposition  of  a  drawing-room  was  a  more 
serious  matter.  lie  stood  more  in  fear  of  a  woman 
of  character  like  Madame  de  Stael  than  of  a  legion 
of  demagogues.  A  thousand  swords  were  less  alarm- 
ing than  one  fan.  Already  he  had  a  close  watch 
kept  on  the  few  newly  opened  drawing-rooms  of  the 
Faubourg  Saint  Germain,  notably  on  that  of  the 
Duchess  of  Luynes,  whose  husband,  a  few  years  later, 
gladly  received  his  nomination  as  senator. 

As  for  Josephine,  she  was  never  more  at  her  ease 
than  in  the  society  of  the  eniigres,  for  with  them  she 
felt  a  harmony  of  ideas  and  hopes.  She  liked  their 
manners,  their  language,  even  their  prejudices.  She 
was  flattered  by  their  respect  and  devotion,  and  felt 
herself  rehabilitated  in  the  eyes  of  good  society  by 
her  sympathy  with  the  adherents  of  the  white  Hag. 
Thiers  has  said  that  she  ought  rather  to  have  crushed 
them  beneath  the  weight  of  her  pride;  but  how  could 
she  have  done  this  when  she  had  shared  their  feel- 
ings, their  grief,  their  sufferings,  and  but  for  the  9th 
Thermidor  would  have  died  on  the  guillotine? 

The  Legitimist  opinions  of  the  former  Viscountess 
of  Beauharnais  were  at  once  a  matter  of  feeling  and 
of  calculation.  By  her  childish  and  youthful  memo- 
ries, by  the  horror  with  which  the  crimes  of  the 
Revolution  filled  her,  by  the  terror  she  had  felt  of 
perishing  on  the  guillotine  like  her  first  husband, 
Josephine  was  a  Royalist.  In  her  mind  all  author- 
ity other  than  that  of  a  king  was,  if  not  precisely 


184  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

usurpation,  at  any  rate  a  perilous  risk.  A  Monk 
seemed  to  her  greater  than  a  Cromwell,  or  even 
than  a  Ciesar.  She  would  have  been  delighted  to  be 
the  wife  of  a  Constable  and  to  become  a  Duchess  by 
the  will  of  Louis  XVIII.  A  stool  would  have  pleased 
her  better  than  a  throne,  because  she  thought  a  stool 
firm,  and  a  throne  frail.  As  the  wife  of  a  Constable, 
and  a  Duchess,  she  felt  that  she  would  be  in  no 
danger  of  divorce,  and  she  would  not  be  told  that 
since  she  gave  her  husband  no  heir,  she  was  imperil- 
ling the  future  security  of  France.  She  would  not 
be  tormented  by  all  sorts  of  dynastic  ideas  and  by 
family  rivalries  which  her  adversaries  encouraged  in 
order  to  ruin  her.  She  would  not  fear  attempts  like 
the  plot  of  the  infernal  machine ;  the  priests  would 
give  their  blessing  to  her  marriage,  and  before  God 
and  man  she  would  enjoy  in  peace  her  husband's 
glory  and  a  position  safe  from  all  perils  of  war  and 
revolution.  Hence  she  yearned  to  see  her  husband 
restore  legitimacy  as  he  had  already  restored  religion. 
Bourrienne  said  in  his  Memoirs :  "  Under  the  con- 
sular government,  the  Royalist  committee  was  not  in 
a  state  of  active  conspiracy;  it  confined  itself  rather, 
if  I  may  say  so,  to  persuasion.  All  its  efforts  tended 
If)  the  circumvention  of  the  persons  who  were  sup- 
posed to  have  the  most  influence  with  the  First 
Consul,  in  the  hope  of  inducing  him  to  desire  the 
return  of  the;  Bourbons.  It  was  especially  against 
Madame  Bonaparte  that  the  batteries  were  directed." 
The   emigre's  knew  Josephine's   character,   and  they 


JOSEPHINE  AND   THE  ROYALISTS.  185 

appealed  in  turn  to  her  vanity,  her  feelings,  her  in- 
terest, and  her  imagination.  They  told  her  that  by 
persuading  her  husband  to  bring  back  the  King  she 
would  do  a  great  deed,  that  she  would  l)e  the  protect- 
ress, the  guardian  angel,  of  the  heir  of  Saint  Louis; 
that  the  throne  and  the  altar  would  owe  her  every- 
thing, that  she  would  place  on  her  head  an  undying 
aureole,  and  that  Bonaparte  would  be  the  greatest  of 
men.  Lamartine  expressed  the  same  thought  in  his 
celebrated  ode. 

Josephine  lent  a  ready  ear  to  these  persuasions, 
but  Bonaparte  laughed  in  his  sleeve  at  those  simple 
beings  who  fancied  that  a  man  of  his  character  would 
be  contented  with  the  second  place.  He  had,  more- 
over, arranged  a  plan  for  controlling  the  nobility. 
As  Madame  de  Stael  has  said,  he  took  good  care  not 
to  put  an  end  to  the  uncertainty  of  the  e'migre's  by 
laws  defining  their  privileges.  kk  He  restored  one 
man  to  his  property ;  from  another  lie  took  them  for 
all  time.  A  decision  in  the  restoration  of  estates 
reduced  one  to  poverty,  while  to  another  it  gave 
even  more  than  he  had  owned.  Sometimes  he  gave 
the  property  of  a  father  to  a  son,  that  of  an  elder 
brother  to  a  younger  brother,  in  accordance  witli  his 
confidence  in  their  devotion  to  his  person.  He  made 
his  favor  of  importance,  not  for  any  frivolous  pleasure 
it  might  give,  but  for  the  hope  of  seeing  one's  country 
again,  and  of  recovering  at  least  a  part  of  one's  pos- 
sessions. The  First  Consul  had  reserved  to  himself 
the  power  of  disposing  on  any  pretext  of  the  fate 
of  all  and  each." 


186  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

The  Senatus-consultum  of  April  26, 1802,  had,  it  is 
true,  proclaimed  an  amnesty  to  the  Emigre's ;  but  an 
exception  was  made  against  those  who  had  accepted 
positions  in  hostile  armies,  or  who  had  remained  in 
the  service  of  French  princes,  as  well  as  against  the 
ecclesiastics  who  had  refused  to  tender  the  resigna- 
tion required  by  the  Pope.  The  same  act  had  guar- 
anteed the  national  property  to  its  purchasers.  But 
a  question  had  arisen  in  respect  to  the  property  of 
Emigre's,  which  had  not  been  sold  after  confiscation, 
and  remained  intact  in  the  hands  of  the  government. 
To  this  class  belonged  a  quantity  of  woods  and  forests 
of  enormous  value.  It  was  decided  that  these  unsold 
properties,  instead  of  returning  to  their  owners,  should 
vest  in  the  State.  It  was  by  restoring  or  keeping 
them,  as  he  might  choose,  that  Napoleon  did  what  he 
pleased  with  the  French  nobility.  The  nobles  who 
submitted  to  his  government  were  enriched ;  the  others 
remained  poor.  This  result  accorded  with  his  general 
policy.  He  protected  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain, 
a  school  for  his  chamberlains.  He  was  aristocratic 
and  religious,  but  in  order  to  control  the  aristocracy 
and  the  clergy.  He  was  a  monarchist,  but  on  one 
condition  —  that  he  should  be  the  monarch. 


XV. 

THE  END  OF  THE  TEMPORARY  CONSULATE. 

IT  is  not  Bonaparte  who  courted  Fortune ;  it  is 
rather  she  that  made  all  the  advances  and  yielded 
to  him.  He  sneered  at  the  hot  demagog-lies  who  so 
speedily  abjured  their  political  principles,  and  it  was 
with  malicious  satisfaction  that  he  said  to  Bourrienne, 
"  All  my  virtuous  Republicans  have  only  to  put  a  little 
gold  lace  on  their  coats,  and  then  they  are  my  men." 
Everything  was  ready  for  the  rule  of  the  new  Caesar. 
He  made  a  pretence  of  refusing  the  diadem,  and  said 
at  a  reception,  to  a  deputation  of  the  Tribunate,  May 
7,  1802.  "I  desire  no  other  reward  than  the  love  of 
my  fellow-citizens.  .  .  .  Death  itself  will  have  no 
terrors  for  me,  if  my  last  looks  may  see  the  happi- 
ness of  the  Republic  as  secure  as  its  glory."  Would 
not  one  who  heard  him  imagine  that  he  w;us  making 
a  sacrifice  in  assuming  the  supreme  power?  The 
Republic,  which  was  so  sincerely  loved  by  the  army, 
which  had  called  forth  such  generous  devotion,  so 
many  heroic  efforts,  on  the  field  of  battle,  now  ex- 
isted only  in  name.  Bonaparte  was  a  real  monarch, 
absolute  and  acknowledged.     With  more  justice  than 

187 


188  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

Louis  XIV. — for  since  the  day  of  that  King  cen- 
tralization, the  great  force  of  absolute  power,  had 
made  enormous  advances  —  he  could  say,  "  The  State, 
it  is  I." 

The  senators,  whose  servility  was  to  weary  him  as 
that  of  the  senators  of  ancient  Rome  wearied  Tibe- 
rius, were  eager  to  know  his  secret  heart.  What  did 
he  want?  A  prolongation  of  his  powers?  Consu- 
late for  life?  A  king's  crown?  An  emperor's  dia- 
dem ?  He  had  but  to  say  the  word,  and  it  would  be 
the  law  of  France.  Since  he  affected  a  modesty 
which  was  far  from  his  thoughts,  the  Senate  decided 
to  win  his  gratitude  by  prolonging  his  powers  for  ten 
years,  and  he  pretended  to  accept  this  offer  most 
thankfully.  In  reality,  however,  he  could  not  under- 
stand their  want  of  perspicacity,  unimportant  as  it 
was;  for  their  decision  was  made  May  8,  and  two 
days  later  the  Council  of  State,  paying  it  no  atten- 
tion, declared  that  the  French  people  should  be  con- 
sulted on  this  question :  "  Shall  the  First  Consul  be 
made  Consul  for  life  ?  "  Any  offence  that  the  Senate 
might  take  with  such  a  procedure  was  to  be  allayed 
by  sending  to  that  body  the  results  of  the  voting. 
It  should  have  the  pleasure  of  announcing  the  issue 
of  the  plebiscite  —  what  more  could  it  ask? 

Bourrienne  tells  us  that  when  all  was  completed 
for  the  Consulate  for  life,  except  the  voting,  which 
could  have  but  one  result,  Bonaparte  went  to  Mal- 
maison  the  middle  of  May  to  spend  a  few  days. 
"That  was  his  habit,"  adds  his  secretary,  "after  any 


END   OF   THE   TEMPORARY  CONSULATE.      189 


event  outside  of  the  usual  course  of  government. 
There  he  used  to  reflect  on  what  he  had  done ;  and 
since,  in  some  mysterious  way,  his  boldest  acts  were 
always  crowned  by  success,  he  acquired  more  confi- 
dence in  his  good  fortune  and  became  more  enthusias- 
tic in  the  sort  of  worship  he  offered  to  audacity.  So 
long  as  he  was  moved  by  passion,  he  saw  only  the  end; 
but  that  once  reached,  he  examined  all  the  obstacles 
he  might  have  met."  Now  when  he  Mas  about  to 
obtain  the  Consulate  for  life,  which  he  bad  so  ar- 
dently desired  because  it  seemed  to  him  the  only 
step  yet  to  be  taken  before  ascending  the  throne,  he 
strolled  through  the  paths  of  Malmaison,  thinking  of 
the  incredible  results  which  justified  his  dreams.  In 
this  moment  of  pride  and  omnipotence,  we  must  be- 
lieve that  his  mind  was  haunted  by  the  vision  of  the 
legitimate  monarchy.  Louis  XVIII.,  without  a  treas- 
ury,  without  an  army,  without  resources  of  any  sort, 
the  importunate  and  despised  guest  of  the  crowned 
heads  of  Europe,  made  him  uneasy.  lie  would  have 
paid  fin  unions  sums,  have  made  the  greatest  sacri- 
fices, to  get  from  this  Pretender  the  renunciation 
of  rights  which  seemed  to  him  formidable,  as  if  he 
already  had  a  presentiment  of  1*14  and  1815.  The 
head  of  the  house  of  Bourbon  had  written  to  him, 
September  7.  1800:  "We  can  assure  the  peace  of 
France.  I  say  ?/v,  because  I  need  Bonaparte  for 
that;  and  lie,  too,  cannot  do  it  without  me."  And 
to  this  Bonaparte  had  replied :  "Sir,  I  have  received 
your  letter.     1   thank  you    for  the   kind   things  you 


190  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

say.  You  ought  not  to  wish  to  return  to  France ; 
you  would  have  to  step  on  half  a  million  corpses. 
Sacrifice  your  own  interest  to  the  peace  of  France ; 
history  will  give  you  credit  for  it.  I  am  not  insen- 
sible to  the  misfortunes  of  your  family.  I  will  gladly 
contribute  to  the  easing  and  soothing  of  your  retire- 
ment." But  in  spite  of  addressing  the  descendant 
of  Louis  XIV.  simply  as  sir,  and  of  his  protecting 
tone  to  the  heir  of  so  long  a  line  of  kings,  he  was  at 
heart  annoyed  by  the  existence  of  this  exile.  This 
is  clearly  shown  in  the  following  conversation  be- 
tween the  First  Consul  and  his  secretary  in  the  park 
of  Malmaison  in  May,  1802 :  "  '  Bourrienne,  do  you 
think  that  the  Pretender  to  the  crown  of  France 
would  give  up  his  rights,  if  I  were  to  offer  him  a 
large  indemnity,  or  even  a  province  in  Italy ? '  'I 
don't  think  he  would.  In  fact,  it  is  extremely  un- 
likely that  the  Bourbons  will  come  back  into  France 
so  long  as  you  are  the  head  of  the  government,  but 
they  must  regard  their  return  as  probable.'  '  Why 
so  ? '  '  The  reason  is  simple.  Don't  you  see  every 
day  how  your  prefects  conceal  the  truth  from  you, 
and  flatter  your  wishes,  in  order  to  get  influence  over 
you?  and  are  you  not  angry  when  at  last  you  get  at 
the  truth?'  'Well?'  'Well,  it  must  be  just  the 
same  with  the  agents  of  Louis  XVIII.  in  France.  It 
is  in  the  order  of  things  and  in  human  nature,  that 
they  encourage  the  Bourbons  with  the  hope  of  a  re- 
turn, if  for  nothing  else,  to  show  their  skill  and  use- 
fulness.'    'That  is  true.     But  don't  be  uneasy;  I  am 


EXD   OF   THE   TEMPORARY  COXSl'LATE.      T.'l 


not  afraid  of  them.     Yet  there  may  be  something  to 
do  about  it.     I  shall  think  of  it;  we  shall  see.'" 

Meanwhile  Josephine  was  in  serious  distress.  She 
remembered  not  without  alarm  the  prediction  of  a 
sorceress  :  "  You  will  sit  on  a  throne,  but  not  for 
long,"  and  the  height  she  reached  made  her  uneasy. 
In  May.  1802,  she  said  to  a  Councillor  of  State :  "  I 
do  not  approve  all  the  plans  that  are  projected,  and 
I  said  as  much  to  Bonaparte,  who  listened  attentively 
to  me,  but  his  flatterers  soon  made  him  change  his 
mind.  The  generals  say  that  they  did  not  light 
against  the  Bourbons  to  set  up  a  family  of  Bona- 
partes  in  their  place.  I  do  not  regret  that  I  have 
given  no  children  to  my  husband,  for  I  should  trem- 
ble for  their  fate.  I  shall  remain  devoted  to  Bona- 
parte's destiny,  however  perilous  it  may  be,  so  long 
as  he  has  the  regard  and  friendship  for  me  which  he 
has  always  shown.  But  the  day  he  changes,  I  shall 
withdraw  from  the  Tuileries."  As  Thibaudeau  has 
said  in  his  Memoirs:  "In  France  and  in  Europe  every- 
thing conspired  for  the  sacrifice  of  the  rights  of  the 
people  in  favor  of  the  First  Consul.  At  court  one 
woman  still  resisted  the  mighty  current ;  she  alone 
was  not  blinded  by  all  the  illusions  of  greatness. 
She  was  incessantly  pursued  by  the  wildest  alarm 
and  the  gloomiest  forebodings.  Indeed.  Madame 
Bonaparte  perhaps  foresaw  her  fall  in  her  husband's 
elevation  to  the  throne  :  but  a  delicate  instinct,  which 
in  women  often  takes  the  place  of  perspicacity,  pre- 
vented  her  seeing    without   horror   a    man   reigning 


192  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

over   the   ruins   of   the  Republic  who  owed  to  the 
Republic  his  greatness  and  glory." 

Amid  the  obsequious  senators  who  were  busily 
flattering  the  new  Caesar,  Josephine  perhaps  feared 
the  dagger  of  a  Brutus.  Saint  Cloud,  to  which  she 
was  soon  to  move,  was  not  an  agreeable  place  for  her, 
and  she  regretted  leaving  that  charming  spot  for  new 
palaces  and  castles  full  of  gloomy  memories.  Had 
not  Saint  Cloud  brought  unhappiness  to  Henry  III., 
to  Henrietta  of  England,  to  Marie  Antoinette  ?  And 
why  should  she  assume  a  crown  ?  Josephine  said  to 
Roederer,  "  Bonaparte's  true  enemies  are  those  who 
fill  him  with  ideas  of  a  dynasty,  of  hereditary  succes- 
sion, of  divorce,  and  a  second  marriage."  She  was  as 
modest  and  disinterested  as  Bonaparte's  sisters  were 
haughty  and  ambitious;  in  her  heart  there  was  no 
place  for  anger  or  pride.  The  part  she  played  was 
not  that  of  a  Lady  Macbeth ;  for  a  year  and  a  half 
she  had  been  entreating  her  husband  not  to  let  him- 
self be  tempted  by  the  crown.  At  first  he  had 
reassured  her;  and  once  when  towards  the  end  of 
1800  she  sat  in  his  lap,  and  said  tenderly,  "  I  beg  of 
you,  Bonaparte,  don't  be  King,"  he  answered,  laugh- 
ing, "  You  arc  absurd,  Josephine.  It's  all  those  old 
dowagers  of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain,  and  espe- 
cially Madame  de  La  Rochefoucauld,  who  got  up  those 
stories;  you  tire  me,  leave  me  alone."  But  she  had 
not  influence  enough  to  stem  the  course  of  destiny,  to 
stop  the  chariot  of  the  triumphant  hero.  Bonaparte 
thought    that    the    duty    of    a    woman    was    to    spin 


KM)   OF   THE   TEMPORARY   Cuysi'LATX.      li»o 


and  knit,  and  he  sent  her  to  lier  domestic  cares, 
while  he  went  on  in  his  proud  and  victorious  career. 
Fouche",  who  was  stoutly  opposed  to  these  monarchical 
plans,  said  to  her :  "  Madame,  keep  quiet.  You  will 
only  annoy  your  husband,  to  no  purpose.  He  will  be 
Life  Consul,  King,  or  Emperor,  —  whatever  any  one 
can  be.  Your  timidity  wearies  him;  your  advice 
wounds  him.  Let  us  stay  in  our  place,  let  things 
happen  which  neither  you  nor  I  can  prevent." 

How  slight  is  human  wisdom,  and  how  right 
Persius  was  when  he  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  the  cares  of 
men,  and  the  emptiness  of  things!"  (0  curas  liotni- 
num.,  0  quantum  est  in  rebus  inane.') 

Bonaparte's  fame  exceeded  that  of  the  greatest. 
France  was  at  his  feet ;  lie  called  forth  from  the 
whole  world  a  long  cry  of  surprise  and  admiration, 
and  yet  he  did  not  suspect  with  what  truth  he 
answered  in  a  somewhat  melancholy  train  the  con- 
gratulations of  the  senators.  "Fortune  has  smiled 
upon  the  Republic,  but  Fortune  is  tickle,  and  how 
many  men  on  whom  she  has  heaped  favors  have 
lived  a  few  years  too  long!  The  interest  of  my  glory 
and  that  of  my  happiness  would  seem  to  have 
marked  the  limit  of  my  public  life."  These  words 
are  very  touching.  Let  us  imagine  Bonaparte  'lying 
as  he  uttered  them.  What  a  (lawless  hero!  what 
incomparable  glory  !  No  murder  of  the  Duke  of 
Enghien !  No  war  with  Spain!  No  retreat  from 
Russia!  No  continental  blockade,  resulting  in  the 
English  control;   no  persecution  of   the  Pope,  ending 


194  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIIiST  CONSUL. 

in  the  triumphal  entry  of  the  Sovereign  Pontiff  into 
the  eternal  city ;  no  seas  of  blood  turned  out,  not  for 
the  aggrandizement  of  France,  but,  alas !  for  its 
diminution ;  no  invectives,  no  imprecations,  no  flight 
in  the  disguise  of  an  Austrian  officer;  no  foreigners 
encamped  in  Bois  de  Boulogne  or  on  the  hill  of 
Montmartre ;  no  Waterloo,  no  Saint  Helena;  but 
France  all-powerful,  invincible,  defying  the  jealousy 
of  the  kings  of  Europe,  and  amid  a  glorious  peace  in 
enjoyment  of  its  natural  frontiers,  —  that  is  what 
would  have  happened  if  this  man,  who  was  looked 
upon  as  indispensable,  had  died  at  the  dawn  of  his 
power  and  glory.  I  well  remember  the  closing  lines 
of  the  "  King  OEdipus  "  of  Sophocles :  — 

From  hence  the  lesson  learn  ye, 
To  reckon  no  man  happy  till  ye  witness 
The  closing  day ;  until  he  pass  the  border 
Which  severs  life  from  death,  unscathed  by  sorrow. 

But  in  1802  who  could  predict  1812,  1814,  1815, 
1821  ?  Bonaparte  was  illustrious  ;  his  retinue  more 
magnificent  than  that  of  the  former  kings.  His  col- 
leagues, the  other  Consuls,  did  not  dare  sit  in  the 
same  carriage.  When  he  went  to  preside  at  the 
Senate,  he  was  alone,  majestic  in  a  state  carriage 
drawn  by  eight  horses.  He  breathed  an  odor  of 
incense  which  intoxicated  him.  Joyous  and  tri- 
umphant, he  declared  that  "  the  liberty,  the  equality, 
the  prosperity  of  France,  shall  be  secure  from  the 
caprices  of  fate  and  the  uncertainty  of  the  future; 


END   OF  THE   TEMPOTIATIY  CONSUL  ATI:.      lJi.'i 


that  tlie  best  of  people  shall  be  the  happiest,  as  it 
deserves;  and  that  he,  satisfied  with  being  called  by 
order  of  those  from  whom  all  power  emanates,  to 
restore  justice,  order,  and  equality,  will  sec  the  ap- 
proach of  his  last  hour  without  regret  and  without 
fear  of  future  generations."  Henceforth  he  is  called 
by  that  magic  name,  Napoleon  !  He  chooses  for  his 
festival  the  festival  of  the  Virgin  Mary,  as  if  he 
wished  his  glory  to  gain  some  of  the  splendor  of  the 
Queen  of  Heaven,  and  to  be  a  sort  of  Assumption. 
August  15,  1802,  he  let  his  star  shine  above  the 
towers  of  Notre  Dame,  forty  feet  above  the  two  plat- 
forms. In  the  middle  of  this  symbolic  illumination 
shone  the  sign  of  the  Zodiac,  under  which  is  the 
birthday  of  this  predestined  man,  and  all  night  his 
bright  star  shone  over  the  buildings  of  the  great 
capital. 


PART  II. 
THE   CONSULATE   FOR  LIFE. 


THE   PALACE  OF   SAINT   CLOUD 

RUINS  seen  by  moonlight  or  in  the  dim  light  of 
a  dark,  rainy  winter  day,  are  perhaps  less  sad 
than  when  seen  embowered  in  green  at  the  dawn  of 
a  bright  day.  Then  it  seems  as  if  nature,  in  its 
serene  calm,  was  smiling  at  men's  vain  plans,  and 
protesting  in  its  immortal  majesty  against  their  follies 
and  their  miseries.  This  is  what  I  felt  August  15 
last.  The  weather  was  superb,  the  sun  magnificent, 
the  sky  without  a  cloud.  I  had  decided  to  walk  out 
to  Saint  Cloud,  and  I  remembered  that  it  was  there 
where  long  ago  the  loth  of  August  was  the  ruler's 
holiday.  At  that  time  the  courtyard  of  the  palace 
was  full  of  line  carriages  adorned  with  coats-of-arms ; 
powdered  lackeys  were  running  about ;  valuable  horses 
were  pawing  the  ground  ;  and  within  the  palace  there 
was  a  continual  coming  and  going  of  oificers,  diplo- 
matists, chamberlains,  equerries,  and  officials,  all 
brilliant  in  uniforms  and  decorations.  In  the  even- 
ing the  palace  and  the  park  were  illuminated  ,  at  a 
distance  lay  the  great  capital,  like  a  giant  sunk  in 
floods  of  light.     There  was  no  lack  of  protestations 

109 


200  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

of  devotion,  of  flattering  speeches  so  ingenious  that 
they  seemed  sincere ;  for  there  are  many  who  know 
how  to  give  to  the  wiles  of  ambition  and  interest  the 
appearance  of  a  natural  expression. 

All  is  changed  within  a  very  few  years.  Who 
thinks  now  of  the  Emperor's  festival  ?  Two  or  three 
hired  carriages  brought  to  the  palace  gate  a  handful 
of  foreigners,  of  tourists,  who,  guidebook  in  hand,  and 
a  field-glass  over  their  shoulder,  came  to  look,  with 
perhaps  more  scorn  than  pity,  at  the  ruins  which  bear 
witness  of  our  misfortunes  and  our  discords.  At  a 
distance,  there  is  a  certain  illusion  about  the  palace; 
a  nearsighted  man  would  never  suspect  the  ravages 
of  fire  and  petroleum.  But  what  a  sight  greets  one 
on  getting  near  the  red  and  damaged  walls  !  One  of 
the  guards  uttered  some  sad  reflections  on  this  man- 
sion which  he  had  seen  so  magnificent  and  which  is 
to-day  so  gloomy  and  so  devastated:  it  is  the  differ- 
ence between  a  woman  brilliant  with  youth,  beauty, 
glory,  and  the  skeleton  of  the  same  woman.  One 
would  say  that  buildings  really  have  a  soul,  and  that 
when  they  are  a  mere  stone  corpse,  their  soul  yet  sur- 
vives. Ruins  call  forth  the  same  thoughts  as  a 
tomb. 

The  park  is  as  fine  as  ever ;  the  old  trees  are  as 
majestic,  the  flower-beds  as  lovely,  the  turf  as  green, 
the  shrubs  as  delicious,  the  waterfalls  as  musical,  as 
in  other  days.  The  birds  still  sing ;  but  one  misses 
the  music  of  the  bands,  the  bugle-calls,  and  the  roll- 
ing of  the  drums. 


THE  PALACE  OF  SAINT  CLOUD.  201 

I  sat  down  on  a  stone  bench  and  thought  of  all 
that  had  taken  place  in  the  palace  in  ruins  before  me. 
In  the  full  blaze  of  noonday  the  phantoms  of  the  past 
appeared  as  if  it  were  black  midnight.  I  thought  of 
Henrietta  of  England,  who  was  so  rich  in  graces, 
and  died,  •'  like  the  flower  of  the  field,"  in  the  night 
of  June  80, 1070,  "a  disastrous,  a  terrible  night,  when 
suddenly  there  came,  with  a  burst  like  a  clap  of  thun- 
der, this  astounding  news:  Madame  is  dying,  Madame 
is  dead."  Seven  years  later  there  is  a  great  festival 
at  Saint  Cloud,  October  10.  1677;  the  Great  King  is 
received  by  his  brother  with  extraordinary  solemnity, 
at  the  inauguration  of  the  Gallery  of  Apollo,  deco- 
rated by  Mignard. 

Towards  the  end  of  the  next  century  Marie 
Antoinette  visited  Saint  Cloud  in  the  summer  of 
1790.  It  was  a  moment  of  rest  before  the  last  march 
to  the  grave,  and  then  this  charming  woman  bade 
farewell  to  the  flowers,  the  country,  the  natural  scen- 
ery which  she  loved  so  much.  I  recalled  the  sole 
interview  between  the  Martyr  Queen  and  Mirabeau  ; 
it  took  place  July  3,  1790,  in  the  park,  at  the  circle 
in  the  top  of  the  Queen's  private  garden.  It  was  a 
memorable  meeting  between  a  man  of  such  marvel- 
lous genius  and  eloquence  and  a  woman  of  her  station 
and  beauty.  I  fancied  that  I  heard  him,  as  lie  left 
her  presence,  saying  in  an  outburst  of  enthusiasm. 
'•Madame,  the  monarchy  is  saved." 

Then  there  was  Saint  Cloud  on  the  10th  IJrumaire, 
year  VIII.     The  Council  of  the  Ancients  was  sitting 


202  THE  WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

in  the  Gallery  of  Apollo,  and  the  Five  Hundred  in 
the  orange-house.  I  recalled  Bonaparte  saying  to  the 
Ancients :  "  Remember  that  I  am  supported  by  For- 
tune and  the  God  of  War."  Then  I  saw  him  in  the 
orange-house,  threatened  by  daggers,  pursued  with 
imprecations.  I  saw  the  grenadiers  invading  the  hall, 
and  I  heard  the  roar  of  the  drum  drowning  the  voices 
of  the  representatives  of  the  people,  as  it  drowned 
that  of  Louis  XVI.  Where  now  is  the  orange-house 
where  took  place  the  scene  which  settled  the  fate  of 
France  ?  The  guard  told  me  that  it  was  situated 
where  the  flower-beds  now  are,  on  the  right  of  the 
palace.  But  it  was  destroyed  a  few  years  ago,  and 
not  the  least  trace  of  it  is  left. 

It  was  in  the  Gallery  of  Apollo  that  the  First 
Empire  was  proclaimed  in  1804,  and  in  the  same 
gallery  the  Second  Empire  was  proclaimed  forty- 
eight  years  later.  After  Waterloo,  Bliicher  slept  at 
Saint  Cloud,  in  Napoleon's  bedroom.  He  lay  there, 
all  dressed,  amusing  himself  by  dirtying  with  his 
boots  the  bedclothes  and  curtains  of  his  old  conqueror. 
It  was  in  the  red  drawing-room  that  the  surrender 
of  Paris  was  signed  in  1815 ;  and  in  the  same  room, 
July  25,  1830,  Charles  X.  and  his  unwise  ministers 
signed  the  fatal  orders.  July  27  the  old  King  was 
quietly  playing  whist  in  the  drawing-room  which 
looks  out  on  the  main  courtyard,  and  from  which 
Paris  may  be  seen  on  the  horizon.  From  one  of  the 
windows  a  servant  saw  a  distant  fire.  It  was  the 
guardhouse  of  the  Place  de  la  Bourse  that  was  burn* 


THE  PALACE  OF  SAINT  CLOUD.  203 

ing.  The  servant  called  the  attention  of  one  of  the 
gentlemen  in  waiting  to  the  smoke  and  flame.  He 
went  up  to  the  King ;  hut  since  Charles  X.,  although 
he  had  been  told  of  the  troubles  that  had  broken  out, 
went  on  quietly  with  his  game,  the  gentleman  did 
not  dare  to  break  the  rules  of  etiquette  by  addressing 
him.  That  same  evening,  M.  de  Sdmonville  said  to 
the  old  King,  '"Sire,  if  your  Majesty  does  not  revoke 
the  orders,  if  there  is  no  change  of  ministry,  to-mor- 
row perhaps  there  will  be  no  king,  or  dauphin,  or 
Duke  of  Bordeaux."  "  I  don't  agree  with  you," 
answered  Charles  X.  "  My  brother,  Louis  XVI., 
perished  by  weakness.  At  any  rate,  I  am  ready  to 
appear  before  my  God."  July  30  the  legitimate 
kingdom  had  ceased  to  exist.  The  Duke  of  Ragusa 
arrived  in  consternation  at  Saint  Cloud.  "Sire,"  said 
he,  "the  battle  is  lost.  A  ball  intended  for  me  killed 
the  horse  of  an  officer  at  my  side.  I  should  prefer 
death  to  the  sad  sight  I  have  just  witnessed."  That 
same  evening  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  by  advico 
of  the  generals,  who  all  declared  that  they  could 
not  be  responsible  for  the  safety  of  the  royal  family, 
had  the  King  awakened  from  sound  slumbers.  The 
brother  of  Louis  XVI.  got  up,  and  sadly  left  Saint 
Cloud  with  his  unhappy  family,  to  depart  for  his 
last  exile. 

The  palace  knew  brilliant  days  under  the  Second 
Empire.  There  was  a  succession  of  royal  guests  and 
of  magnificent  entertainments.  The  bed-chamber  of 
Marie  Antoinette,  of  Josephine,  of  Marie  Louise,  of 


204  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

the  Duchess  of  Angouleme,  became  the  ministers' 
council-hall.  Louis  Philippe's  study  became  the 
chamber  of  the  Empress  Eugenie.  The  young 
Prince  Imperial  had  the  rooms  on  the  ground  floor 
which  were  formerly  occupied  by  the  King  of  Rome, 
by  the  Count  of  Artois,  the  Duchess  of  Berry,  and 
by  Madame  Adelaide.  From  it  the  King  of  Rome 
used  to  start  in  his  gilded  carriage,  drawn  by  two 
white  sheep.  Saint  Cloud  was  the  favorite  resort  of 
Napoleon  III.  Thither  he  returned  July  16,  1859, 
after  the  Italian  campaign,  and  thence  he  departed 
for  the  fatal  war  with  Germany.  It  was  from  Saint 
Cloud  that,  on  the  9th  of  May,  1812,  Napoleon  I., 
amid  the  great  men  of  his  court,  like  Darius  among 
his  satraps,  started  in  great  pomp  for  a  no  less  unfor- 
tunate war  —  that  with  Russia.  The  departure  of 
Napoleon  III.,  July  28,  1870,  was  much  more  modest. 
His  proclamations  were  stamped  with  melancholy,  as 
if  he  wished  to  warn  the  nation  by  calming  its  frenzy 
rather  than  by  adding  to  it.  An  ovation  was  prom- 
ised him  if  he  would  go  through  Paris,  but  he  refused. 
Even  before  the  conflict  began  he  was  overwhelmed 
by  a  sort  of  prophetic  depression.  In  1859  he  started 
solemnly  for  the  war,  amid  the  excited  transports  of 
the  multitude,  but  then  he  had  confidence  in  his  star; 
in  1870  this  trust  had  vanished.  He  went,  pursued 
by  presentiments  which,  however  mournful  they  may 
have  been,  were  outdone  by  the  reality.  In  going 
by  rail  on  the  right  bank  from  Paris  to  Versailles, 
there  is  to  be  seen  on  the  left,  in  the  park  of  Saint 


THE  PALACE  OF  SAINT  CLOUD.  205 


Cloud,  a  little  rustic  rotunda  close  to  the  line.  There 
it  was  that,  July  28,  1870,  at  ten  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, the  unfortunate  Emperor  and  the  Prince  Imperial 
got  into  the  train  which  took  them  straight  to  Metz. 
Would  not  one  say  that  they  were  the  victims  of  a 
real  fate  ? 

During  the  siege,  the  National  Guards  upon  the 
ramparts  saw  on  the  horizon  a  large  fire;  it  was  the 
palace  of  Saint  Cloud,  burning  like  a  woodpile.  Some 
say  it  was  ignited  by  shells  from  Mont  Valdrien,  and 
others  maintain  that  it  was  drenched  with  petroleum 
by  the  Germans  and  burned  by  them.  This  unfortu- 
nate palace  could  not  be  saved  by  the  proud  motto  of 
the  brother  of  Louis  XIV..  Alter  post  fuhnina  terror, 
or  by  the  poetic  reminiscences  of  Marie  Antoinette, 
or  by  the  legendary  greatness  of  tin;  Empire.  Thus 
perished  so  much  grandeur.  It  is  written  in  letters 
of  fire,  like  those  of  Belshazzar's  feast.  The  Gallery 
of  Apollo,  all  resplendent  with  gold,  the  mythologi- 
cal decorations,  the  frescoes  of  Mignard.  —  all  these 
wonders  perished  in  the  fiery  furnace.  The  sky  was 
as  red  as  blood.  The  whole  hill  which  overhangs  the 
left  bank  of  the  Seine,  and  is  surmounted  by  the  lofty 
trees  of  the  park,  from  the  palace  to  the  rising  ground 
of  Sevres,  is  lit  by  the  flames,  and  this  fire  is  but  the 
forerunner  of  others  still  more  lamentable,  because 
they  were  lit,  not  by  German,  but  by  French  hands. 

All  these  various  visions  passed  before  my  eyes 
like  the  scenes  of  a  play,  now  bright,  now  gloomy, 
and  I  felt  myself  distressed  by  this  multitude.     Now 


206  THE    WIFE  OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

it  may  be  worth  while  to  see  what  it  is  under  the 
Consulate.  The  Saint  Cloud  we  have  to  study  is 
the  Saint  Cloud  of  1802,  of  1803,  of  1804,  in  all  its 
majesty,  the  abode  of  power  and  glory.  Bonaparte 
had  just  been  elected  Consul  for  life  by  3,568,885 
votes  out  of  3,577,259.  The  Senate  had  presented 
him  with  its  expression  of  "  the  confidence,  the  ad- 
miration, and  the  love  of  the  French  people."  That 
is  the  official  language.  A  statue  of  Peace  had  been 
erected,  holding  in  one  hand  the  laurel  wreath  of  the 
victor,  and  in  the  other  the  decree  of  the  Senate, 
bearing  witness  to  posterity  of  the  nation's  gratitude. 
Saint  Cloud  was  the  summer  residence  of  the  new 
sovereign;  for  what  other  name  can  be  given  to  a 
ruler  whose  powers  are  for  life,  and  who  has  the  right 
of  appointing  his  successor  to  suit  himself?  The 
former  monarchs  had  no  such  power,  for  they  had  to 
accept  for  heir  the  man  born  to  the  throne.  Malmai- 
son  was  a  private  castle ;  Saint  Cloud  a  royal  one,  in 
which  all  the  pomp  of  a  monarchy  could  be  displayed. 
The  staircase  was  in  the  middle  of  the  castle  as  one 
enters  from  the  central  court ;  it  was  adorned  with 
marble  columns,  and  built  by  Micque,  Marie  Antoi- 
nette's architect.  Up  one  flight  was  the  main  hall 
with  its  painted  ceiling  on  which  was  History  writing 
the  life  of  the  brother  of  Louis  XIV.  A  door  to  the 
right  led  into  the  room  of  Mars,  an  anteroom  of  the 
Gallery  of  Apollo.  The  roof,  the  covings,  and  the 
space  over  the  doors  of  the  hall  of  Mars  were  decorated 
by  Mignard,  as  was  also  the  Gallery  of  Apollo.    Over 


rut:  palace  of  saist  (Lorn.  207 


the  entrance  was  the  birth  of  Apollo  and  Diana; 
in  the  middle  of  the  arch,  Apollo,  the  <_r< >' I  of  day, 
driving  his  chariot  ;  to  the  right  and  lift  were  the 
four  seasons:  and  at  the  end  of  the  gallery,  above  the 
windows,  was  Parnassus.  ( Hiding,  pictures,  flowers, 
allegorical  figures,  medallions  in  bronze  and  cameo, 
and  other  works  of  art  completed  the  wonderful  deco- 
ration of  this  beautiful  gallery.  At  the  end  was  the 
door  into  the  room  of  Diana,  where  Mignard  had 
painted  his  masterpieces.  On  the  ceiling  the  goddess 
of  night:  in  the  covings  the  toilette,  the  hunt,  the 
bath,  and  the  sleep  of  the  huntress  Diana.  Returning 
through  the  Gallery  of  Apollo  and  the  room  of  Mars, 
we  entered  the  room  of  Venus,  where  Lemoyne  had 
painted  on  the  ceiling  Juno  borrowing  the  cestus  of 
the  Queen  of  Love:  bevond  was  the  room  of  Truth, 
so  called  from  a  ceiling-picture  of  that  goddess, 
painted  bv  Antoine  Covpel ;  further  still  were  the 
rooms  of  Mereurv  and  of  Aurora,  likewise  adorned 
with  allegorical  paintings. 

All  these  majestic  halls,  with  their  mythological 
names  and  decorations,  appealed  to  Bonaparte's 
southern  imagination  and  recalled  the  familiar  remi- 
niscences of  pagan  antiquity.  lie  liked  to  go 
through  the  brilliant  Gallery  of  Apollo,  which  had 
brought  him  good  luck  on  the  l'.Hli  Brumaire,  and 
which  was  for  Saint  Cloud  what  the  Gallery  of  Mi- 
nors is  for  Versailles.  It  was  thickly  crowded  every 
Sundav  after  mass  —  cardinals,  bishops,  senators, 
councillors  of  state,  deputies,  tribunes,  generals,  am- 


208  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

bassadors,  magistrates,  Royalists,  Republicans,  all  the 
most  distinguished  French  citizens,  as  well  as  for- 
eigners were  there  together,  and  on  an  equal  footing. 
The  First  Consul  spoke  to  almost  every  one,  and 
often  their  private  affairs  were  discussed.  The  most 
astute  confined  themselves  to  paying  their  court  to 
him.  Then  they  went  to  Madame  Bonaparte,  who 
had  taken  the  apartment  of  Marie  Antoinette  in  the 
left  wing.  The  most  distinguished  foreign  ladies 
were  presented  to  her,  among  whom  were  the  Zamo- 
'iskas,  the  Potockas,  the  Castel-Fortes,  the  Dorsets, 
the  Gordons,  the  Newcastles,  the  Dolgoroukis,  the 
Galitzines.  When  Bonaparte  permitted  the  mem- 
bers of  the  Diplomatic  Body  to  pay  their  homage  to 
him,  had  he  not  the  airs  and  language  of  a  mon- 
arch ?  And  did  not  Josephine  receive  like  a  queen 
or  empress? 

From  that  time  a  rigid  etiquette  prevailed  at  Saint 
Cloud.  General  Duroc,  the  governor  of  the  palace, 
maintained  a  table  for  the  officers  and  ladies-in-wait- 
ing and  for  the  aides.  The  First  Consul  dined  alone 
with  his  wife,  but  twice  a  week  he  invited  officials  to 
his  table.  The  military  household  consisted  of  four 
generals  in  command  of  the  Consular  Guard , —  Gen- 
erals Lannes,  Bessieres,  Davoust,  and  Soult;  and 
seven  aides,  —  Colonels  Lemarois,  Caffarelli,  Caulain- 
court,  Savary,  Rapp,  Fontanelli,  and  Captain  Lebrun, 
son  of  the  Third  Consul.  There  were  four  prefects  of 
the  palace,  —  Messrs.  do  Liujay,  de  Re'musat,  Didelot, 
and  de  Cramayel ;  and  four  ladies  of  the  palace,  —  Ma- 


THE   PALACE   OF  SAIXT   <  Loll).  i'O'l 

(Lime  cle  Lugay,  Madame  de  Talhouet,  Madame  de 
Remusat,  and  Madame  de  Lauriston.  The  prefects 
of  the  palace  had  charge  of  the  service,  the  etiquette, 
and  the  performances.  The  ladies  had  to  be  in  wait- 
ing upon  the  wife  of  the  First  Consul  and  to  make 
the  presentations.  There  was  so  complete  a  return 
to  the  customs  of  the  Court  of  Versailles  that  it  was 
seriously  proposed  to  require-  that  powder  should  he 
worn  by  every  one  who  came  to  the  castle.  But  the 
First  Consul  could  not  bring  himself  to  wearing  it, 
and  so  every  one  was  left  free  to  do  as  he  pleased 
about  it.  Every  one  was  given  to  understand  that 
the  First  Consul  preferred  to  see  powder  and  "bag- 
wig";  so  most  of  the  foreigner's,  and  especially  the 
English,  who  wore  their  hair  short  and  without  pow- 
der, used  to  attend  his  receptions  with  whitened  hair 
and  a  bag  fastened  to  their  coat-collar. 

The  chapel  at  Saint  Cloud  was  not  unlike  that  at 
Versailles.  Bonaparte  required  atheists  to  be  pres- 
ent at  mass  on  Sundays.  I  am  reminded  of  what  La 
Bruyere  has  said:  "The  great  people  of  the  nation 
meet  at  a  certain  hour  in  a  temple  which  they  call  a 
church;  at  the  end  of  the  temple  is  an  altar  conse- 
crated to  their  Cod.  .  .  .  The  grandees  form  a  large 
circle  at  the  foot  of  this  altar,  and  stand  with  their 
back  to  this  altar,  and  the  holy  ministers  with  their 
faces  turned  towards  their  King,  who  is  to  be  seen 
kneeling  on  a  tribune,  and  to  whom  they  seem  to 
direct  their  attention  and  devotion.     There-  is  a  sort 


210  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

of  subjection  in  this  custom,  as  if  the  people  were 
adoring  the  King,  and  the  King  adoring  God." 

The  appearance  of  the  theatre  which  Bonaparte 
had  built  in  1803,  beyond  the  orange-house,  completes 
the  resemblance  to  monarchical  ways.  No  one  can 
applaud  or  weep  or  laugh  without  the  master's  signal. 
The  Diplomatic  Body  was  formally  invited  to  the  rep- 
resentations. The  First  Consul  sat  in  the  front  of  a 
box  on  the  right  of  the  stage ;  behind  him  stood  the 
aides  and  officers  in  waiting.  Opposite  was  the  box 
of  Madame  Bonaparte  with  her  ladies.  The  other 
boxes  in  the  first  balcony  were  occupied  by  the  mem- 
bers of  his  family,  the  ministers,  the  ambassadors,  and 
their  wives.  Every  one  stood  up  when  Bonaparte  and 
Josephine  came  in  and  bowed  to  the  audience.  Some- 
times the  large  door  at  the  back,  through  which  the 
scenery  was  brought  in,  would  be  thrown  open,  show- 
ing the  brilliantly  illuminated  gardens. 

The  park  of  Saint  Cloud,  which  is  nearly  a  thou- 
sand acres  in  extent,  is  most  beautiful  with  its  vener- 
able trees,  its  green  turf,  its  picturesque  eminences. 
The  fountain  rises  eighty-eight  feet;  the  arcades  are 
of  most  graceful  construction,  and  the  celebrated  cas- 
cades where  the  water  falls  down  a  series  of  high 
steps  are  most  brilliant  in  the  blazing  sun  or  under 
the  colored  lights  of  an  illumination.  The  lantern  of 
Demosthenes,  the  little  Greek  building  which  used  to 
stand  on  the  highest  point  of  the  park,  commanding 
a  lovely  view  of  the  river  below,  was  especially 
charming.     It  would  have  been  hard  to  find  a  more 


THE  PALACE  OF  SAIST  <  I.oih.  -JH 


beautiful  view,  a  grander  panorama.  Obviou.-dv  a 
place  like  this  was  full  of  attractions  for  tin-  voun<» 
enthusiastic  officers  in  the  suite  of  the  First  Consul, 
and  everywhere  he  appeared  as  a  sovereign  who  was 
also  a  general.  All  this  display  of  grandeur  had  a 
military  quality,  lie  carried  no  sceptre,  hut  sonic- 
thing  better,  —  his  sword.  The  hero  of  the  Pyramids 
is  greater  than  the  civil  ruler  ;  his  glory  outshines  his 
rank. 

Bonaparte's  working-room  at  Saint  Cloud  was  a 
large  room,  lined  with  books  from  floor  to  ceiling. 
There  he  used  to  sit  on  a  small  sofa  covered  with 
green  watered-silk,  near  the  fireplace,  above  which 
were  placed  two  bronze  busts  of  Scipio  and  Hannibal. 
Behind  the  sofa,  in  the  corner,  was  the  desk  of  Mene- 
val,  his  secretary,  who  had  taken  Bourrienne's  place 
By  the  side  of  this  room  was  a  little  drawing-room 
where  the  First  Consul  used  to  receive  Talleyrand, 
his  Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  and  where  he  gave 
private  audiences.  In  this  drawing-room  he  had 
placed  a  portrait  of  Gustavus  Adolphus,  his  favorite 
hero.  The  only  ornament  in  his  bedroom  on  the 
ground  floor,  commanding  a  view  of  the  garden,  was 
an  antique  bust  of  Ca'sar. 

Bonaparte  understood  how  to  satisfy  his  visitors 
with  a  word  or  a  smile.  In  the  Memoirs  of  General 
de  Se'gur  is  a  good  description  of  those  glorious  days 
at  Saint  Cloud.  Se'gur  had  at  first  been  opposed  to 
Bonaparte,  from  his  feeling  of  caste  and  his  devo- 
tion to  the  Republic.      On  the  day  of   the    Tr  Drum 


212  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIIiST  CONSUL. 

on  account  of  the  Concordat,  he  had  been  one  of  the 
band  of  discontented  officers ;  but  the  hero  of  Marengo 
said  a  few  kind  words  to  him  and  he  was  at  once 
overwhelmed  with  happiness  and  enthusiasm. 

"Citizen  Segur,"  Bonaparte  began,  with  a  loud 
voice,  in  the  Gallery  of  Apollo,  among  a  number  of 
senators,  tribunes,  legislators,  and  generals,  "I  have 
appointed  you  on  my  personal  staff ;  your  duty  will 
be  to  command  my  body-guard.  You  see  what  con- 
fidence I  place  in  you,  you  will  deserve  it;  your 
ability  and  your  worth  promise  swift  promotion." 
Then  he  passed  along  the  gallery,  through  the  double 
line  of  courtiers,  to  the  tribune  in  the  chapel  where 
he  heard  mass.  Se'gur  was  in  an  ecstasy.  "Drunk 
with  joy,"  he  says,  "and  scarcely  conscious  of  touching 
the  earth,  I  hastened  through  the  brilliant  halls,  and 
took  possession  of  them.  I  returned  and  stopped  at 
the  place  which  I  now  see  before  me,  where  I  had 
just  heard  those  gratifying  words ;  I  paused  and  re- 
peated them  a  hundred  times.  It  seemed  to  me  that 
they  made  me  a  partaker  of  the  glory  of  the  con- 
queror of  Italy,  Egypt,  and  France.  I  do  not  know 
what  was  the  real  weather  of  that  autumn  day  (Octo- 
ber 27,  1802),  but  it  remains  in  my  memory  as  the 
brightest,  most  beautiful  day  of  the  year  that  I  had 
yet  seen." 

All  the  contemporary  writers  describe  this  period 
as  one  of  real  enchantment.  France  is  never  so  happy 
as  when  it  is  exultant  with  pride ;  no  nation  endures 
so  ill  misfortune  or  mediocrity.      Nothing  but   the 


THE   P ALACK  OF  SALXT  (Lor h.  21 3 


highest  position  will  satisfy  it.  Bonaparte,  who 
thoroughly  understood  the  French  character,  ruled 
it  through  its  vanity.  He  continually  said,  "Von  are 
the  happiest,  the  best,  the  most  famous,  the  greatest 
of  nations!"  And  France  believed  him;  for  the 
country  was  like  a  beautiful  woman  gazing  with 
rapture  into  a  mirror.  With  this  spirit  in  prosperity, 
there  exists  the  impossibility  of  believing  in  the 
remotest  chance  of  defeat;  its  self-confidence  amounts 
to  infatuation.  What  is  true  of  the  country  is  also 
true  of  Bonaparte  after  his  election  to  the  Consulate 
for  life.  He  imagined  himself  faultless,  infallible, 
invincible,  and  this  confidence  he  communicated  to 
others.  Louis  XIV.  in  all  tin.'  brilliancy  of  his  youth 
never  received  such  adulation. 

But  twelve  years  later  Saint  Cloud  presents  a  dif- 
ferent spectacle.  The  Prussian  horses  are  drinking 
in  the  waters  of  the  park,  which  is  converted  into  a 
camp,  and  invaded  by  a  horde  of  foreigners.  A  pack 
of  dogs  which  follows  Blucher  everywhere  occupies 
and  ruins  the  boudoir  of  the  Empress  Marie  Louise. 
The  books  of  the  library  are  strewn  helter-skelter  over 
the  floor.  .July  Li,  181/),  Prince  Metternich  wrote  to 
his  daughter:  k>  I  have  dined  with  Blucher,  who  has 
his  headquarters  at  Saint  Cloud.  Tie  inhabits  this 
castle    as   a   general   of  hussars.      He   and   his  aides 

o 

smoke  where  we  have  seen  the  court  in  its  greatest 
splendor;  I  dined  in  the  room  where  T  have  spent 
hours  talking  with  Napoleon.  The  army-tailors  are 
quartered  where   we  used  to  see  the  plays,  and  the 


214  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIB  ST  CONSUL. 

musicians  of  a  regiment  of  riflemen  were  catching  the 
goldfish  in  the  large  basin  under  the  castle  windows. 
As  I  was  going  through  the  great  gallery,  the  old 
marshal  said  to  me,  '  What  a  fool  the  man  must  be  to 
go  running  off  to  Moscow  when  he  had  all  these  fine 
things  at  home  ! '  As  I  looked  down  from  the  balcony 
at  the  great  city,  with  all  its  domes  shining  at  sunset, 
I  said  to  myself,  '  This  city  and  this  sun  will  glow 
like  this  when  there  is  nothing  remembered  of  Na- 
poleon or  of  Blucher,  and  certainly  nothing  of  me.' 
The  immutable  laws  of  nature  are  always  the  same, 
and  we,  poor  creatures,  who  think  so  much  of  our- 
selves, live  only  to  make  a  show  by  our  perpetual 
movement,  by  our  dabbling  in  the  mud  or  in  the 
quicksand." 

Bossuet  was  right  when  he  spoke  of  that  "foolish 
wisdom,  ingenious  in  self-tormenting,  skilful  in  self- 
deceit,  corrupt  in  the  present,  vain  in  the  future, 
which  by  much  reasoning  and  vast  efforts,  only  wastes 
itself  to  no  purpose,  collecting  things  which  the  wind 
scatters."  When  from  the  heights  of  Saint  Cloud  the 
two  Napoleons  looked  upon  their  fete-days  at  the 
great  capital  all  ablaze  with  illuminations,  at  the 
Panthe'on,  Saint  Sulpice,  the  Tuileries,  the  Louvre, 
the  bright  dome  of  the  Invalides,  at  the  bursting  fire- 
works, could  they  have  anticipated  the  other  flames 
which  a  few  years  later  were  to  destroy  their  two 
palaces  ?  Nowhere  is  the  emptiness  of  human  glory 
more  strongly  impressed  upon  the  beholder  than  by 
these  ruins.     Whenever  the  imagination  is  fascinated 


THE  PALACE  OF  SAINT  CLOUT).  215 

by  the  splendor  of  imperial  pomp,  by  the  memory  of 
so  many  victories,  so  many  wonders,  a  hidden  voice, 
like  that  of  the  slave  in  the  ancient  triumphs,  seems 
to  murmur  those  two  names,  Saint  Cloud  and  the 
Tuileries. 


IL 


THE  CONSULATE  FOR  LIFE. 

IN  history,  as  in  art,  there  is  always  infatuation 
and  fashion ;  and  reputations,  like  the  pictures 
of  the  masters,  rise  or  fall  according  to  the  time  or 
the  circumstances.  Glory  is  eclipsed,  like  the  sun. 
Napoleon  who  was  perhaps  more  famous  at  the  Resto- 
ration and  during  the  reign  of  Louis  Philippe  than  in 
that  of  Napoleon  III.,  now  finds  possibly  more  to  con- 
demn than  to  praise  him.  In  the  time  of  Louis  XVIII. 
and  Charles  X.,  the  opposition,  to  whatever  party 
it  belonged,  made  out  of  Napoleon's  glory  a  weapon 
against  the  Bourbons ;  and  the  most  advanced  liberals, 
with  an  enthusiasm  which  was  perhaps  not  quite  sin- 
cere, chanted  the  praises  of  the  new  Caesar.  It  was  a 
Republican  poet,  B  Granger,  who  was  the  most  popular 
singer  of  an  emperor,  and  in  the  days  of  July,  it  has 
been  said  that  there  were  as  many  Bonapartists  as 
Orleanists  among  the  insurgents.  Louis  Philippe 
felt  bound  to  preserve  the  memories  of  the  Empire 
even  in  the  palace  of  Louis  XIV.,  and  to  place  David's 
picture  of  the  coronation  of  Napoleon  at  the  top  of 
the  marble  staircase.     He  sent  his  son,  the  Prince  of 

210 


TIIF  CONSULATE  FOR   LIFE.  2V 


Joinville,  to  Saint  Helena  to  bring  hack  the  ashes  of  the 
hero  of  Austerlitz.  On  the  threshold  of  the  Invalides, 
the  Prince  said  to  his  father,  "Sire,  I  present  to  you 
the  body  of  Napoleon,  which  I  have  brought  back  to 
France  in  obedience  to  your  orders.*"  Louis  Philippe 
answered,  "I  receive  it  in  the  name  of  France." 
Napoleon's  sword  was  brought  in  on  a  cushion.  The 
King  took  it  from  the  hands  of  Marshal  Soult  and 
gave  it  to  General  Bertrand,  the  courtier  of  Saint 
Helena,  saving,  "General,  I  charge  you  with  placing 
the  glorious  sword  of  the  Emperor  upon  his  coffin." 
It  was  then  the  fashion  among  liberals  to  hold  to  this 
conclusion  of  a  history  of  Napoleon  by  Laurent  de 
FArdeche,  illustrated  by  Hoi-ace  Vernet:  "Yes,  in 
spite  of  all  the  past,  the  people  went  back  to  him, 
and  will  always  stay  with  him  ;  yes,  in  spite  of  the 
attempted  aristocratic  reorganization,  the  crowned 
soldier  will  be  to  future  generations  what  he  was 
for  con  temporal*}'  monarchs,  the  terror  of  old  Europe, 
the  genius  of  the  new  France,  the  child  of  Democracy, 
the  hero  of  the  Revolution."  Curiously  enough,  the 
four  writers  who  have  done  the  most  for  Napoleon's 
glorv.  did  not  belong  to  the  party  of  the  Empire, 
—  Bcranger,  Victor  Hugo,  Thiers,  and  Chateaubriand. 
To-day  the  dithyrambs  are  silent.  The  only  man 
who  in  these  later  years  has  sung  in  epic  form  the 
giant  of  battles  is  Victor  Hugo,  and  he  did  it  in  a 
book  without  mercy  for  the  Emperor's  successor,  in 
the  ■•Chatinients."  But  there  was  such  secret  affinity 
between   the   poet    and    the  general,  that   in  spite  of 


218  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

himself  he  composed  the  most  magnificent  and  most 
wonderful  verse  about  Napoleon  that  was  ever 
written. 

Now,  the  critical,  analytical  spirit  has  succeeded  to 
this  lyrical  fire.  The  popular  songs  are  silent.  No 
one  sings  in  the  streets  the  "  Memories  of  the  People," 
and  the  impartial  judge  tries  to  determine  the  trutli 
between  the  dithyramb  and  the  satire.  Hence  the 
moment  is  favorable  for  studying  Napoleon's  charac- 
ter, without  fanaticism,  without  prejudice,  calmly 
and  loyally. 

There  are  many  ways  of  looking  at  a  man;  he 
changes  with  time ;  and  the  great  fault  of  historians, 
when  they  have  to  judge  a  celebrated  person,  is,  that 
they  make  but  a  single  portrait,  instead  of  a  series, 
which  to  be  true  to  the  model  ought  to  be  unlike  one 
another.  The  Count  of  Las  Cases,  in  the  "  Memorial  of 
Saint  Helena,"  shows  an  exact  image ;  but  we  cannot 
judge,  from  the  Napoleon  of  1816,  of  the  Napoleons 
of  earlier  years.  The  Emperor,  beaten,  unhappy,  a 
prisoner,  became  a  great  philosopher,  under  the  les- 
sons of  an  experience  of  human  vicissitudes.  He  had 
no  more  exultations  of  pride,  no  more  intoxication  of 
power,  no  more  clouds  of  incense.  Purified,  regene- 
rated by  misfortune,  Napoleon  improved  morally,  as 
he  sank  materially. 

Nor  must  we  confound  the  First  Consul  with  the 
Emperor.  The  Empire  is  an  exaggeration  of  the 
Consulate.  It  is  as  First  Consul  that  we  see  Napo- 
leon most  truly  himself,  before  he  was  caught  in  the 


THE   CONSULATE   FOR    LIFE.  219 

tempest  of  war  which  ended  by  making  him  like  a 

blind,  unconscious  force.  Napoleon  as  Emperor  as- 
sumes superhuman  proportions,  to  say  which,  to  mv 
thinking,  is  far  from  praise.  Amid  the  splendor  of 
Imperialism  he  was  so  carried  away  and  fascinated 
by  his  own  glory,  that  he,  so  to  speak,  lust  conscious- 
ness of  his  identity.  Beneath  the  mantle  of  the 
sovereign  one  can  scarcely  hear  the  beating  heart  of 
the  man.  The  hero's  destiny  is  like  a  wonderful 
romance,  which  with  its  incidents  plunges  him  into 
ecstatic  surprise.  lie  attains  so  lofty  a  height  that 
we  cannot  understand  why  his  head  did  not  reel. 

As  Thiers  has  well  said  :  "  It  is  hard  to  detect  kind- 
ness in  a  soldier  forever  occupied  in  strewing  the 
world  with  corpses,  friendship  in  a  man  whit  never 
had  equals,  honesty  in  a  potentate  who  was  master 
of  the  wealth  of  the  world."'  We  are  about  to  study 
the  Consul  for  lite,  and  we  shall  consult  the  testi- 
mony of  his  contemporaries  for  answers  to  these  ques- 
tions:  Was  Napoleon  a  religious  man?  Had  he  a 
good  heart?  Had  he  intelligence'/  imagination? 
Was  he  a  genius?  We  shall  study  the  two  sides  of 
each  question,  summoning  the  witnesses  for  and 
against,  who  appear  before  the  highest  tribunal,  the 
tribunal  of  history. 

Was  Napoleon  a  religious  man?  This  is  the  tes- 
timony of  Prince  Metternieli :  "Napoleon  was  not 
irreligious  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  the  word.  Ib- 
did  not  admit  that  there  ever  was  a  sincere  atheist. 
As  a  Christian  and  a  Catholic,   it   was  to  a  genuine 


220  THE   WIFE  OF  TTIE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

religion  alone  that  he  granted  the  right  of  governing 
human  society.  He  looked  upon  Christianity  as  the 
basis  of  all  real  civilization,  and  on  Catholicism  as 
the  most  favorable,  used  for  the  maintenance  of  order 
and  of  the  peace  of  the  moral  world.  Protestantism 
he  held  to  be  a  source  of  trouble  and  dissension. 
Indifferent  himself  to  the  rites  of  religion,  he  re- 
spected them  too  much  to  allow  any  ridicule  of  those 
who  practised  them.  Possibly  religion  was  with  him 
less  an  affair  of  feeling  than  one  of  policy ;  but  what- 
ever may  have  been  his  secret  thought,  he  never 
betrayed  it." 

For  myself,  I  am  inclined  to  believe  that  Napo- 
leon's religion,  however  incomplete  it  may  have  been, 
was  at  least  sincere.  He  had  faith  in  God,  and 
thought  that  Heaven  had  given  him  a  mission  to 
fulfil  on  earth.  The  Baron  de  Meneval  says  :  "  When 
he  used  to  say  that  the  bullet  which  was  going  to 
kill  him  had  not  yet  been  moulded,  it  was  mere  fatal- 
ism; lie  thought  that  his  providential  mission  was 
not  yet  finished.  When  lie  wrote  to  the  Directory 
that  just  when  approaching  Egypt  he  saw  a  ship 
which  he  thought  belonged  to  the  hostile  fleet,  and 
that  he  besought  Fortune  not  to  abandon  him,  but 
to  grant  him  only  five  days,  lie  mentally  translated 
Fortune  by  an  omnipotent  Providence."  lie  was  not 
merely  a  deist  and  interested  in  spiritual  things;  he 
had  Catholic  feelings  which  were  intimately  connected 
with  his  infantile  memories.  Me'neval  says  on  this 
subject:  "His  habit  of  crossing  himself  mechanically 


THE  CONSULATE   FOR   LIFE.  221 


at  the  revelation  of  a  great  danger,  on  the  discovery 
of  any  important  fact  I>earing  on  the  interests  of 
France  or  his  own  plans,  at  the  announcement  of  an 
unexpected  piece  of  news,  good  or  had,  was  not 
merely  a  reminiscence  of  his  early  religious  training, 
hut  rather  an  expression  of  his  feeling  that  to  the 
Author  of  all  things  he  owed  these  favors  or  these 
tidings.  His  expectation  of  aid  from  on  high  at  the 
decisive  moment  of  a  battle ;  his  frequent  allusions 
in  his  talk,  in  his  proclamations,  in  his  bulletins,  to 
the  sole  Judge  who  holds  in  his  hands  the  issues  of 
all  events;  the  religious  thoughts  called  up  to  his 
mind  at  the  sight  of  a  church  or  at  the  sound  of  its 
hell:  his  re-establishment  of  Catholicism  in  France; 
his  recourse  to  the  consolations  of  religion  in  his  last 
moments.  —  all  attest  his  faith  in  Providence." 

Napoleon  was  not  a  devout  Catholic.  It  cannot 
be  said  that  he  was  a  believer,  but  still  less  that  he 
was  an  unbeliever;  he  doubted  and  hoped.  Doubt- 
less, if  he  had  been  a  fervent  Christian,  he  would 
have  hastened  to  have  his  marriage  with  Josephine 
blessed  by  the  Church,  for  during  the  Consulate  it 
was  only  a  civil  marriage;  and  he  would  have  taken 
communion,  which  he  did  not  do.  Yet,  like  many 
men,  he  was  at  heart  religious,  although  not  practis- 
ing the  forms.  The  Voltairian  spirit  tilled  him  with 
repugnance,  and  he  bowed  before  the  cross  with  deep 
respect.  Under  the  Consulate  political  considerations 
were  superior  to  those  of  religion  :  but  at  Saint  1  lelena. 
face    to    face    with    death,    the    Christian    reappeared. 


222  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FI11ST  CONSUL. 

and  the  conqueror  of  so  many  battles  terminated  his 
agitated  career  as  a  good  Catholic.  He  piously  re- 
ceived the  consolations  of  religion,  asking  for  all  the 
usual  Catholic  rites  at  his  funeral,  and  that  he  should 
lie  in  state  in  the  dining-room  in  which  he  was  accus- 
tomed to  hear  mass  ;  and  when  Dr.  Antomarchi  smiled 
at  hearing  these  instructions  given  to  Abbe"  Vignale, 
Bonaparte  said  to  him  with  some  severity,  "  Young 
man,  you  are  perhaps  too  intelligent  to  believe  in 
God.  I'm  not  like  you.  Not  every  one  who  wants 
to  be  is  an  atheist." 

Was  Napoleon  kind?  This  is  what  Madame  de 
Re'musat  testifies  as  witness  for  the  prosecution :  "  I 
ought  now  to  speak  of  Napoleon's  heart.  If  it  is  pos- 
sible to  believe  that  a  being,  in  other  respects  like  to 
ourselves,  could  yet  be  without  this  part  of  our  organ- 
ization which  makes  us  require  to  love  and  to  be 
loved,  I  should  say  that  at  his  creation  his  heart  was 
forgotten,  or  else  that  he  succeeded  in  entirely  silenc- 
ing it.  He  always  takes  too  much  interest  in  himself 
to  be  controlled  by  any  feeling  of  affection  whatso- 
ever. He  almost  ignores  even  the  ties  of  blood,  the 
rights  of  nature." 

After  Madame  de  Re'musat  let  us  hear  Prince  Met- 
ternich,  whose  testimony  inclines  to  neither  side : 
"  Napoleon  had  two  forces.  As  a  private  citizen  he 
was  gentle  and  tractable,  neither  kind  nor  malicious. 
As  a  statesman,  lie  was  not  moved  by  feeling;  he 
decided  without  bias  of  love  or  hate.  He  crushed  or 
removed   his   enemies,   without  consulting   anything 


the  ( <>.\>rL.i  i k  mi:  life. 


but  necessity  or  interest.  The  end  once  attained, 
he  forgot  them." 

So  much  for  the  testimony  for  the  prosecution. 
Bourrienne  who,  perhaps  in  spite  of  himself,  nour- 
ished a  certain  occult  jealousy  against  his  former  col- 
lege-comrade who  had  heroine  the  arbiter  of  Europe, 
does  not  hesitate  to  say:  "Bonaparte  was  tender, 
kind,  open  to  pity;  he  liked  children  very  much,  and 
wicked  men  seldom  know  that  feeling.  In  his  pri- 
vate life  he  was  pleasant  and  indulgent  to  human 
weakness,  which  he  knew  and  appreciated  well.  .  .  . 
Most  men,  he  used  to  say,  are  weak,  and  deserve  pity 
rather  than  hatred.  They  cannot  he  lifted  up  by 
overwhelming  them  with  scorn:  on  the  contrary,  it  is 
better  to  persuade  them  that  they  are  better  than  they 
really  are  in  order  to  get  from  them  whatever  they 
may  be  capable  of." 

After  Bourrienne,  let  us  call  on  his  other  secretary. 
Me*neval :  "Bonaparte  seemed  like  a  father  in  the 
midst  of  his  family.  His  renunciation  of  greatness 
had  an  inexpressible  charm.  I  could  never  get  over 
my  surprise  at  seeing  the  simple  ways  of  a  man  who 
from  afar  appeared  so  imposing.  I  expected  roughness 
and  an  uncertain  temper  :  instead  of  that.  I  found  Napo- 
leon easy-going,  not  at  all  exacting,  full  of  a  sportive 
and  sometimes  boisterous  gayety,  and  sometimes  really 
delightful." 

Flis  aide.  General  Rapp,  says :  "No  one  was  more 
constant  in  his  affections  than  Napoleon.  He  loved 
his  mother  tenderly,  lie  adored  his  wife,  he  was  very 


224  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

fond  of  his  brothers  and  sisters,  and  of  all  his  relatives. 
All,  except  his  mother,  treated  him  most  unkindly, 
but  nevertheless  he  continually  overwhelmed  them 
with  wealth  and  honors." 

Napoleon's  family  feeling  is  undeniable.  Prince 
Metternich  himself  recognized  it  when  he  said :  "  A 
good  son  and  a  kind  relative,  with  distinctions  such 
as  one  often  finds  in  middle-class  Italian  families, 
Napoleon  endured  the  attacks  of  some  of  his  family 
without  exercising  sufficient  force  of  will  to  stop  them, 
even  when  his  interests  required  it.  His  sisters,  in 
particular,  got  from  him  whatever  they  wanted. 
Neither  of  his  wives  had  occasion  to  complain  of  his 
treatment."  October  18,  1801,  Josephine  wrote  to 
her  mother  in  Martinique  :  "  You  ought  to  love  Bona- 
parte. He  makes  your  daughter  very  happy.  He  is 
a  charming  man." 

Once,  when  a  boy,  he  had  just  left  his  brother 
Joseph,  to  go  to  the  school  in  Brienne,  and  in  taking 
leave  he  had  shed  but  one  tear,  which  he  had  in  vain 
tried  to  hide,  Avliile  his  brother  was  all  in  tears.  A 
priest,  their  teacher,  avIio  saw  them,  said  to  Joseph, 
"  He  has  shed  only  one  tear,  but  that  shows  his  grief 
as  much  as  all  of  yours."  King  Joseph,  who  reports 
this  anecdote  in  his  Memoirs,  adds  that  there  was  a 
great  difference  between  his  brother's  real  character 
and  the  artificial  character  which  circumstances  had 
compelled  him  to  assume.  "  Napoleon,"  he  goes  on, 
"had  some  rare  qualities,  which  he  later  thought  it 
necessary  to  hide  under  the  artificial  character  which 


THE   COXSULATE   FOll    LIFE. 


he  tried  to  acquire  when  he  came  to  power,  on  the 
pretext  that  men  needed  to  be  led  l>v  a  man  as  strong 
and  just  as  the  law,  and  not  by  a  ruler  whose  kindness 
would  be  interpreted  as  weakness  when  it  did  not  rest 
en  inflexible  justice. "  Joseph  concluded  that  his 
brother  "was  much  more  truly  a  just  and  good  man 
than  a  great  warrior  or  great  administrator";  and 
Thiers  is  not  far  from  this  opinion  when  he  says. 
"  As  soon  as  Napoleon  ceased  to  rule,  and  had  no  need 
to  restrain  or  arouse  men,  he  became  gentle,  simple, 
just,  with  the  justice  of  a  great  mind  that  knows 
humanity,  understands  its  weaknesses,  and  pardons 
them  because  they  are  inevitable." 

To  those  who  maintain  that  Napoleon  was  kind, 
there  has  been  objected  his  cold  indifference  on  the 
battle-field,  but  for  soldiers  this  indifference  is  a 
matter  of  professional  duty.  War  is  like  hunting. 
A  man  who  is  prominent  in  the  Society  for  the  Pre- 
vention of  Cruelty  to  Animals  becomes  absolutely 
cruel  when  he  is  hunting  a  hare  or  a  partridge.  For 
a  general  in  the  hour  of  action,  the  enemy  is  only 
human  mime;  but  after  the  battle,  the  soldier  be- 
conies  once  more  generous  and  humane.  A  soldier 
who  has  returned  home  is  as  mild  as  a  child,  yet  he 
was  a  terrible  creature  in  a  hot  light  with  his  bayonet 
at  the  end  of  his  gun.  Was  there  ever  a  kinder 
father  than  Marshal  Pelissier ?  yet,  when  he  had  to 
give  the  signal  of  the  assault  of  Sehastopol,  did  he 
feel  a  moment's  hesitation  or  pity? 

Some   may    urge    Napoleon's    outburst-    ol    anger: 


220  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

but  these  did  not  arise  from  an  evil  disposition,  they 
were  rather  put  on  for  show,  wilful  outbreaks  to  pro- 
duce some  needed  effect;  the  result  of  calculation, 
not  of  passion. 

To  this  question  we  may  add  another :  Did  Napo- 
leon like  women  ?  Again,  Madame  de  Remusat  ap- 
pears for  the  prosecution.  According  to  her,  Napoleon 
despised  women,  which,  as  she  says,  is  not  a  way  of 
loving  them.  "  Their  weakness,"  she  adds,  "  seemed 
to  him  an  uncontrovertible  proof  of  their  inferiority, 
and  the  power  they  have  acquired  in  society  appeared 
to  him  an  unendurable  usurpation,  a  consequence 
and  an  abuse  of  the  progress  of  civilization,  which, 
as  M.  de  Talleyrand  expressed  it,  was  always  some- 
what his  personal  enemy.  Consequently,  Bonaparte 
was  never  quite  at  his  ease  with  women ;  and  since 
this  lack  of  ease  put  him  somewhat  out  of  temper, 
he  always  approached  awkwardly,  not  knowing  how 
to  talk  with  them.  ...  I  should  be  inclined  to 
believe  that  Bonaparte,  who  was  almost  always  busy 
with  political  questions,  was  scarcely  ever  moved  by 
love  except  through  his  vanity.  He  cared  for  a 
woman  only  if  she  was  handsome,  or  at  least  young. 
He  may  perhaps  have  thought  that  in  a  well-organ- 
ized society  we  should  be  put  to  death,  as  certain 
insects  die  naturally,  the  work  of  maturity  once  ac- 
complished." This  is  damaging  testimony;  and  were 
it  not  for  Madame  de  Rdmusat's  unimpeachable  repu- 
tation, I  should  be  tempted  to  detect  something  like 
spitefulness  in  her  language. 


THE   CONSULATE   FOR   LIFE. 


Yet  Prince  Metternich  is  scarcely  more  favorable 
in  his  judgment.  "Never,"  he  says,  "did  he  address 
a  gracious  or  even  a  polite  phrase  to  a  woman,  al- 
though one  could  perceive  by  his  expression,  or  the 
sound  of  his  voice,  that  lie  tried  to  do  so.  He  spoke 
to  women  only  about  their  dress,  of  which  he  boasted 
that  he  was  a  particular  and  severe  judge ;  or  else  about 
the  number  of  their  children,  and  one  of  his  favorite 
questions  was  whether  they  nursed  them  themselves, — 
a  question  which  he  often  asked  in  language  unusual 
in  good  society.  Sometimes  he  made  a  number  of 
inquiries  about  the  secret  relations  of  society,  which, 
so  far  as  the  choice  of  place  and  methods  was  con- 
cerned, gave  to  his  conversations  an  air  of  misplaced 
admonitions  rather  than  the  character  of  drawing- 
room  talk." 

Certainly  the  man  of  the  camp  was  never  a  man  of 
society-  The  trivialities  of  gallantry  seemed  to  him 
absurd,  and  his  voice,  accustomed  to  commanding, 
could  not  adopt  soft  modulations.  Like  most  of  the 
men  of  his  generation,  he  paid  his  tribute  to  the 
school  of  Jean  Jacques  Rousseau,  and  his  letters  to 
Josephine  during  the  first  Italian  campaign  were 
written  in  the  style  of  the  '•  Nouvelle  Heloise";  but 
he  soon  abandoned  a  method  which  only  suited  the 
honeymoon,  and  would  sound  very  odd  alter  a  few 
years  of  matrimony.  Without  doubt  he  lacked  the 
exaggerated  sensibility  which  Berquin  and  Klorian 
had  introduced  :  he  looked  upon  it  as  an  affectation 
as   it   existed  at   the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century, 


228  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

when  the  word,  if  not  the  thing  itself,  had  become 
ridiculous  in  his  eyes.  Since  in  his  heart  he  re- 
mained a  military  man,  he  detested  sentimentalism. 
Whenever  he  fell  in  love,  it  was  with  a  sort  of  wild 
fury.  He  conquered  a  woman  like  a  province ;  he 
never  wooed,  he  subjugated ;  to  humiliate  himself 
before  a  woman  would  have  seemed  like  a  sort  of 
abdication.  His  imperious  and  masterful  character 
appeared  in  his  amours ;  he  reproached  the  old  kings 
for  their  gallantry  as  a  form  of  weakness,  and  never 
let  himself  be  enslaved  by  love.  He  made  it  a  point 
of  honor  to  seem  invulnerable  and  proof  against  the 
shafts  of  love ;  hence  in  his  relations  with  women  of 
renowned  beauty  or  intelligence  he  assumed  rough 
ways,  though  he  could  be,  when  he  wished,  very 
charming.  The  women  who  wanted  to  rule  him  but 
failed  all  owed  him  a  grudge,  as  we  see  from  their 
words  or  their  writings.  They  accused  the  man  who 
resisted  them  of  being  insensible,  brutal,  ill-mannered, 
heartless.  But  there  is  evident  exaggeration  in  these 
readily  explicable  accusations. 

Napoleon  did  not,  as  has  been  unjustly  said,  de- 
spise women ;  lie  esteemed  virtuous  women  and  set 
great  store  by  domestic  life  and  Christian  marriage. 
He  adored  and  revered  his  mother,  and  many  of  the 
most  odious  accusations  brought  against  him  fall  to 
the  ground  from  lack  of  proof  and  do  not  demand 
discussion. 

Another  question  arises :  Was  Napoleon  a  man  of 
intelligence  ?     The  affirmative  answer  seems  certain. 


THE   COX  SI' LATE    Volt    I.  IFF..  229 


Even  Madame  cle  R&nusat  acknowledges  the  extreme 
pleasure  slie  took  in  his  conversation.  "With  him, 
one  idea  called  forth  a  thousand  others,  and  the 
slightest  wind  raised  his  conversation  t<>  the  loftiest 
heights,  in  which  perhaps  sound  logic  falls  away,  hut 
his  intelligence  is  no  less  remarkable.  ...  His  lan- 
guage is  generally  animated  and  brilliant,  his  errors 
in  grammar  often  give  it  an  unexpected  strength, 
which  is  well  supported  l>v  the  originality  of  his 
ideas.  He  grows  interested  in  his  conversation  with- 
out plying.  From  the  moment  he  takes  up  a  subject, 
he  is  off  far  away,  but  careful  to  notice  if  lie  is  fol- 
lowed, and  grateful  to  those  who  understand  and 
applaud  him.  .  .  .  Like  an  orator  who  gathers 
strength  from  the  effect  he  produces,  Bonaparte  en- 
jovs  the  approval  which  he  sought  for  in  the  eyes 
of  his  audience." 

Prince  Metternich  pays  like  homage  to  Napoleon's 
intelligence.  "Talking  with  him  has  always  had  a 
charm  for  me  that  I  find  hard  to  define.  He  would 
seize  the  essential  point,  strip  it  of  all  useless  acces- 
sories, develop  his  thought,  and  go  on  elaborating  it 
until  it  was  perfectlv  clear  and  conclusive,  always 
finding  the  right  worth  or  inventing  it  if  it  did  not 
exist,  so  that  his  conversation  was  always  lull  ot 
interest."  In  the  whole  history  of  humanity  there 
has  perhaps  never  been  a  keener,  more  profound, 
more  original,  more   brilliant    intelligence. 

Was  Napoleon  a  man  of  imagination?  <  >n  this 
matter,   doubt   is    impossible.      All    his    life    Napoleon 


230  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIE  ST  CONSUL. 

was  a  man  of  action  and  a  dreamer.  When  tired 
with  his  grandiose  plans,  his  mind  would  rest  by 
recalling  the  happy  days  of  his  youth.  He  liked  to 
falk  about  Corsica,  his  infancy,  and  his  old  father, 
who  had  said  to  him,  "  You,  Napoleon,  you  will  be  a 
great  man ! "  His  life  was  full  of  poetry  from  his 
cradle  to  the  tomb.  The  instincts  of  an  artist  lay  at 
the  bottom  of  this  conqueror's  heart.  "  When  I  first 
knew  him,"  says  Madame  de  Rdmusat,  "he  liked 
everything  which  tended  to  re  very,  —  Ossian,  twilight, 
melancholy  music.  I  have  seen  him  listen  with  rap- 
ture to  the  murmur  of  the  wind,  and  speak  with 
delight  of  the  roar  of  the  sea ;  and  I  have  known  him 
to  be  tempted  to  believing  in  the  possibility  of  mid- 
night apparitions ;  in  a  word,  to  incline  towards  cer- 
tain superstitions.  When  in  the  evening  he  had  left 
his  working-room  for  Madame  Bonaparte's  drawing- 
room,  he  would  sometimes  have  the  lights  covered  by 
a  white  veil ;  and  then,  after  commanding  strict 
silence,  he  took  pleasure  in  telling  and  hearing  ghost 
stories,  or  else  he  would  listen  to  low,  soft  songs  from 
Italian  singers,  with  a  very  gentle  accompaniment. 
Then  he  would  fall  into  a  revery,  wliich  every  one 
was  afraid  to  disturb  by  moving  or  changing  place. 
When  aroused,  he  seemed  rested,  and  became  calmer 
and  more  communicative." 

More  of  a  poet  in  action  than  any  other  great  man, 
more  than  Alexander,  more  than  Caesar,  and  more 
than  Charlemagne,  Napoleon,  in  prosperity  and  in 
adversity,  was  like  a  great  actor,  playing,  not  merely 


THE   CONSULATE    Foil    LIFE.  231 


for  his  contemporaries,  but  still  more  for  posterity- 
Had  he  been  a  mere  tactician  and  administrator,  ho 
would  not  have  roused  the  masses.  Lamartine  is 
wrong  in  saying  that  during  tin:  Napoleonic  period 
there  were  only  two  things,  —  the  budget  and  the 
sword;  there  was  an  ideal,  glory.  Great  tilings  are 
never  accomplished  without  immaterial  elements;  and 
as  Napoleon  himself  said,  it  is  imagination  that  rules 
the  world. 

The  man  who  inspired  Chateaubriand  with  the 
finest  passages  of  his  "Memoires  d'Outretombe," 
Thiers  with  his  •'History  of  the  Consulate  and  of 
the  Empire,"  Lamartine  witli  his  "Ode  to  Bona- 
parte," Bellinger  with  his  "Memoirs  of  the  People." 
Heine  with  his  "Two  Grenadiers,"  and  Victor  Hugo 
with  the  most  magnificent  words  that  have  ever 
sounded  on  the  lyre.  —  that  man,  if  he  possessed  no 
other  merit,  would  deserve  to  be  called  a  man  of 
genius.  Prince  Metternich  is  in  error  when  he  savs, 
"The  opinion  of  the  world  is,  and  always  will  be, 
divided  on  the  question  whether  Napoleon  is  entitled 
to  be  called  a  great  man."  Doubt  on  that  subject  is 
impossible.  Napoleon  is  great  by  his  successes,  his 
faults,  and  his  misfortunes.  Everything  about  him 
was  colossal,  immeasurable,  —  the  evil  as  well  as  the 
good.  His  was  a  prodigious  character  that  cannot 
be  judged  by  ordinary  standards.  Pigmies  are  too 
short  and  their  eyes  are  too  dim  to  be  able  to  look 
at  the  giant.     Great  men  are  like  wide  views  —  they 


232  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

are  best  seen  from  a  height ;  they  require  to  be  looked 
at  from  a  distance  and  from  a  lofty  position,  with 
due  regard  to  optical  effects ;  otherwise  it  is  im- 
possible to  take  account  of  the  changes  of  opinion, 
and  history  becomes  inexplicable.  One  does  not 
look  at  the  sun  through  a  magnifying-glass.  It  is 
impossible  to  understand  Napoleon  without  under- 
standing the  French  Revolution,  which  produced  him. 
There  was  in  him  something  novel,  violent,  and 
strange,  as  in  the  events  in  which  he  grew  up.  He 
was  the  principal  figure  in  a  period  which  is  one 
long  series  of  unprecedented  phenomena. 

Doubtless  it  may  be  maintained  that  his  genius  was 
an  evil  for  humanity,  that  he  brought  on  France  a 
real  avalanche  of  woe,  that  the  results  obtained  were 
singularly  disproportionate  to  the  loss  of  life;  but 
however  Napoleon  may  be  denounced,  it  is  impossible 
to  deny  his  greatness.  His  bitterest  enemies  have 
cursed  him,  but  without  questioning  his  glory;  and 
even  Chateaubriand  himself,  the  author  of  the  famous 
pamphlet,  "  Bonaparte  and  the  Bourbons,"  which  was 
of  more  service  than  an  army  to  Louis  XVIII.,  said 
after  Napoleon's  death,  "  I  could  not  measure  the 
giant's  greatness  until  he  had  fallen."  No  man  can 
so  take  possession  of  his  time  and  of  history,  unless 
he  is  really  extraordinary.  What  country  has  not 
echoed  with  the  magic  name  of  Napoleon  ?  When  a 
few  years  ago  the  Shah  of  Persia  came  to  Paris,  his 
first   visit  was    to    the   Emperor's  tomb,  and  before 


THE  COXSILATE   Full    LIFE. 


233 


going  down  into  the  crypt,  he  respectfully  removed 
his  sword,  us  if  he  did  not  dare  to  appear  armed 
before  the  shade  of  the  great  man.  Tn  the  eves  of 
posterity  Napoleon  will  diminish  as  a  politician,  but 
lie  will  always  grow  as  a  poetical  figure. 


m. 

JOSEPHINE  IN   1803. 

IN  1803  Josephine  was  forty  years  old.  Her 
beauty  was  a  little  faded,  but  she  treated  her 
face  so  skilfully,  and  dressed  with  such  taste,  her  ex- 
pression was  so  charming,  her  smile  so  sweet,  her 
bearing  so  graceful,  her  manners  so  fine,  that  she 
was  still  very  attractive,  and  might  almost  pass  for  a 
pretty  woman.  She  was  treated  like  a  queen,  and 
yet  unexpected  and  moral  greatness  sat  easily  upon 
her.  She  received  so  well,  had  such  command  of 
the  art  of  saying  a  kind  word  to  every  one,  her  mem- 
ory was  so  good,  her  tact  and  readiness  so  conspicu- 
ous, that  she  seemed  born  on  the  steps  of  the  throne. 
No  party  was  hostile  to  her.  The  Republicans  were 
grateful  for  her  friendship  with  Fouche',  who  repre- 
sented the  revolutionary  element  in  Bonaparte's  sur- 
roundings ;  those  who  belonged  to  the  old  regime 
regarded  her,  and  with  reason,  as  their  ally,  and  as 
a  real  Royalist.  Since  she  had  been  kind  to  every 
one  without  exception,  she  aroused  neither  hate  nor 
anger;  those  who  judged  that  her  morals  were  not 
all  that  could  be  desired,  never  reproached  her,  and 
234 


JOSEPHINE   LV   1803.  235 


the  bitterest  enemies  of  her  husband  spared  her.  By 
her  kindness  she  found  favor  among  men  of  all  parties. 

In  the  lH'ginning  of  1803  a  mennVr  of  the  Institute, 
M.  Ventenat,  in  dedicating  to  her  a  l>ook  entitled 
"The  Garden  of  Malmaison,"  wrote  this  letter  in  a 
style  as  flowery  as  the  suhjeet:  **  Madame,  you  have 
thought  that  the  taste  for  flowers  should  not  l»e  a 
sterile  study.  You  have  brought  together  the  rarest 
French  plants,  and  many  which  had  never  left  the 
deserts  of  Arabia  and  the  burning  sands  of  Egypt 
have  been  naturalized  by  your  orders,  and  now,  care- 
fully classified,  they  present  to  our  eyes,  in  the  garden 
of  Malmaison,  the  most  charming  memory  of  the  con- 
quests of  your  illustrious  husband,  and  a  most  attentive 
token  of  your  studious  leisure.  You  have  been  kind 
enough  to  choose  me  to  describe  these  different  plants, 
and  to  inform  the  public  of  the  wealth  of  a  garden 
which  already  equals  the  best  that  Kngland,  Germany, 
and  Spain  can  boast  of.  Deign  to  accept  the  homage 
of  a  task  undertaken  by  your  command.*'  The  gallant 
botanist  ended  his  letter  with  a  compliment  turned 
after  the  fashion  of  his  day  :  "  If  in  the  course  of  this 
work  I  have  described  anv  one  of  the  modest  and  benef- 
icent plants  that  seem  to  exist  only  to  spread  around 
them  an  influence  as  sweet  as  it  is  salutary.  I  shall 
have.  Mada great  difficulty  to  avoid  making  a  com- 
parison which,  doubtless,  will  not  escape  my  readers." 

Josephine  was  popular,  and  she  deserved  her  popu- 
larity. All  classes  of  society  united  in  paying  her 
homage.     This   is  the   way   in   which   her  portrait  is 


236  THE   WIFE  OF   THE  FIB  ST  CONSUL. 

drawn  by  some  of  her  contemporaries.  Madame  de 
R^musat  readily  acknowledges  the  charm  of  the  First 
Consul's  wife.  "  Without  being  exactly  pretty,"  she 
says,  "her  whole  appearance  had  a  peculiar  charm. 
Her  features  were  delicate  and  harmonious;  her 
expression  was  gentle ;  her  mouth,  which  was  very 
small,  did  not  disclose  her  teeth,  which  were  not 
good ;  she  disguised  the  brownness  of  her  complexion 
with  the  aid  of  rouge  and  powder;  her  figure  was 
perfect,  her  limbs  were  delicate  and  graceful ; '  every 
movement  was  graceful,  and  of  no  one  could  it  be 
said  more  truthfully  than  of  her,  that  her  grace  was 
more  beautiful  than  beauty.  She  dressed  with  great 
taste,  and  graced  what  she  wore ;  and  thanks  to  these 
advantages  and  her  constant  attention  to  dress,  she 
escaped  being  effaced  by  the  beauty  and  youth  of  the 
many  women  who  surrounded  her." 

Napoleon's  first  valet,  Constant,  describes  Josephine 
as  follows  :  "  She  was  of  medium  height  and  very  well 
made.  All  her  movements  were  light  and  graceful, 
so  that  her  walk  was  almost  flitting,  yet  without  los- 
ing the  majesty  expected  of  a  queen.  Her  expressive 
countenance  varied  with  her  emotions,  and  yet  it 
always  retained  the  charming  sweetness  which  was 
its  main  characteristic.  Happy  or  unhappy,  she  was 
a  beautiful  object.  No  woman  ever  more  thoroughly 
proved  the  truth  of  the  statement  that  the  eyes  are 
the  mirror  of  the  soul.  Her  own  were  dark  blue  and 
almost  always  half  hidden  by  her  long  lids,  which 
were  slightly  arched  and  bordered  by  the  most  beau- 


JOSEPIIIXE   IX    IS03.  237 


tiful  lashes  in  the  world,  so  that  they  had  an  irresist- 
ible charm.  Her  hair  was  beautifully  long  and  silky. 
In  the  morning  she  liked  to  wear  a  red  turban,  which 
gave  her  a  most  piquant  Creole  air."  One  of  Jose- 
phine's great  charms  was  her  soft,  insinuating,  musi- 
cal voire.  "How  often  it  happened,"  says  Constant, 
"that  I,  like  a  good  many  others,  would  stop  on  hear- 
ing this  voice,  simply  for  the  pleasure  of  listening  to 
it!"  She  read  aloud  very  well,  and  liked  to  do  it. 
Napoleon  preferred  her  to  all  his  readers. 

The  most  marked  quality  of  her  nature  was  kind- 
ness. Being  truly  kind,  she  would  have  acquired  the 
quality  of  set  purpose  if  she  had  not  already  been 
born  with  it.  She  had  all  that  goes  to  make  up  this 
disposition:  gentleness,  modesty,  simplicity,  compas 
sion  for  the  unhappy,  the  desire  to  be  useful  and 
agreeable,  generosity,  charity,  and  love  of  her  neigh- 
bor. Here  is  what  Mademoiselle  Avrillon  says  >n  the 
subject  :  "There  was  only  one  opinion  about  the  ex 
quisite  kindness  of  Madame  Bonaparte;  instances 
were  abundant,  and  there  was  no  limit  to  ihe  eulogies 
of  her  many  admirable  qualities.  She  was  extremely 
affable  with  all  who  were  about  her;  1  do  not  itelieve 
that  there  ever  was  a  woman  who  made  her  high 
station  less  perceptible."  On  this  point  Madame  de 
Remusat  oilers  corroboratory  testimony  for  she  says, 
speaking  of  Josephine:  "With  all  liei  advantages  she 
united  extreme  kindness.  Moreover,  she  wa>  remark- 
ably even-tempered  ;  .-he  was  very  well  disposed  and 
always  ready   to   forget  any  evil  done  to  her."      Con- 


238         THE    WIFE    OF   THE   FIRS1     CONSUL. 

stant  speaks  in  the  same  way:  "Kindness  was  as 
much  part  of  her  character  as  grace  of  her  person. 
Being  extremely  kind,  tender  almost  to  excess,  gen- 
erous to  profusion,  she  made  all  who  were  near  her 
happy,  so  no  woman  was  ever  better  loved  or  more 
deserved  to  be  loved.  .  .  .  Having  known  unhappi- 
ness,  she  had  sympathy  for  others  ;  being  always  good- 
tempered  and  cheerful,  as  obliging  to  her  enemies  as 
to  her  friends,  she  made  peace  where  formerly  there 
had  existed  quarrel  and  dissension." 

Was  Josephine  clever?  Yes,  but  she  did  not  pos- 
sess that  cleverness  which  manifests  itself  in  ingen- 
ious thoughts  or  paradoxes,  which  is  inspired  by 
malice,  which  finds  utterance  in  witticisms  and  bits 
of  sarcasm,  and  delights  in  gossip  and  scandal,  but 
rather  a  quiet,  amiable  cleverness,  consisting  mainly 
of  tact,  of  a  comprehension  of  the  most  delicate  and 
subtle  distinctions,  which  readily  finds  the  exact 
word;  in  short,  the  best  cleverness  that  there  is, 
because  it  comes  from  the  heart.  She  had  that  rare 
and  charming  gift  of  listening  well.  Her  good  mem- 
ory made  her  many  friends.  If  she  happened  to  meet 
any  one  whom  she  had  not  seen  for  a  long  time,  she 
recalled  the  minutest  circumstances  of  the  past,  and 
entered  into  the  minutest  details  about  things  which 
even  the  persons  concerned  had  sometimes  forgotten. 

In  justice  it  must  be  said  that,  of  course,  Josephine 
had  the  faults  of  her  qualities.  Generally,  generosity 
easily  becomes  extravagance,  amiability  often  degen- 
erates into    silliness,  and    gentleness    into    weakness. 


JOSEPHINE   IS    lsu:i.  •_':::» 


Josephine  was  charitable,  but  she  used  to  get  into 
debt.  "  People  bring  me  beautiful  tilings."  she  said 
one  day  to  Bourrienne  ;  "they  show  me  how  precious 
they  arc  and  I  buy  them.  They  don't  ask  me  to  pav 
them  at  the  time,  but  send  me  the  bill  when  I  have 
no  money.  Then  that  gets  to  Bonaparte's  ears,  and 
he  is  angry.  "When  I  have  any  money,  you  know 
what  T  do  with  it  ;  I  give  most  of  it  to  suffering  peo- 
ple who  come  to  beg.  to  penniless  emigres.  Jose- 
phine was  kind  and  benevolent,  but  she  received  with 
equal  warmth  honorable  persons  and  those  of  a  tar- 
nished  reputation.  She  was  gentle,  but  her  character 
lacked  seriousness  ;  she  displayed  excessive  indul- 
gence to  women  of  a  blemished  reputation  ;  all  her 
tastes  were  frivolous,  her  conversation  was  empty 
and  she  had  no  influence  over  her  husband  in  impor- 
tant mutters.  It  would  not  have  been  easy  for  any 
woman  to  give  political  advice  to  a  man  who  stoutly 
upheld  the  privileges  of  his  sex.  Prince  Metternieh 
said  of  Josephine:  "Her  mind  was  not  a  powerful 
one.  but  it  was  of  an  excellent  soil  as  far  as  it  went. 
It  would  be  unjust  to  hold  her  responsible  for  the 
excesses  of  Napoleon's  ambition.  Had  she  been  able 
she  would  doubtless  have  put  a  drag  on  the  chariot 
in  which,  at  the  beginning  of  his  career,  she  helped 
to  place  him." 

In  1S03  the  First  Consul  and  his  wife  were  still 
living  harmoniously,  although  Bonaparte,  in  Paris  it 
not  at  Saint  Cloud,  was  at  times  unfaithful.  At 
Saint   Cloud   peace   prevailed,  and   no  eye  could   hav« 


240  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

detected  any  scandal.  At  eight  in  the  morning  the 
First  Consul  would  get  up  and  betake  himself  to  his 
study;  he  lunched  there  alone,  and  while  at  table, 
he  received  artists  and  actors,  —  he  was  very  fond  of 
their  society,  —  and  then  he  went  back  to  his  work 
till  six  in  the  evening ;  then  he  drove  in  a  barouche 
with  his  wife.  On  their  return  they  dined,  and  then 
he  would  talk  more  or  less,  according  to  his  feelings, 
and  then  he  would  go  back  to  his  work.  Josephine 
spent  the  evening  playing  cards ;  between  ten  and 
eleven  a  servant  would  come  in  and  say,  "  Madame, 
the  First  Consul  has  gone  to  bed,"  then  she  dismissed 
her  company  and  went  to  her  room.  Everything  was 
smooth  at  Saint  Cloud,  but  at  the  Tuileries,  in  the 
same  year,  there  were  stormy  scenes,  one  of  which  is 
told  by  Madame  de  Re'musat  in  her  Memoirs. 

In  1796  it  was  Bonaparte  who  complained  of 
Josephine's  indifference ;  in  1803,  after  seven  years 
of  marriage,  it  was  Josephine  who  had  learned  to 
know  all  the  uneasiness,  suspicion,  and  mental  anguish 
of  a  woman  who  sees  her  husband  growing  calm  and 
cold.  It  must  be  remembered,  however,  that  the 
First  Consul  was  six  years  younger  than  his  wife; 
and  while  her  beauty  was  fading, — he  was  thirty-four 
when  she  was  forty,  —  he  was  gaining  not  merely 
fame,  wealth,  and  power,  but  also  health  and  beauty. 

The  First  Consul  of  1803  was  very  unlike  the 
general  of  the  early  months  of  1796.  When  he 
married,  Bonaparte  was  puny,  delicate,  ailing,  penni- 
less, with  no  other  reputation  than  that  of  the  13th 


JOSEPIIISE    I.X    IstKl.  241 


Yendemiaire ;  and  Josephine's  friends  thought  that 
she  had  made  a  very  poor  match.  But  in  180o  things 
had  changed  very  much.  Bonaparte  had  acquired 
all  the  ascendancy  that  can  be  given  by  the  sover- 
eign power  in  the  hands  of  a  man  of  genius.  All 
the  fashionable  beauties  regarded  him  with  enthusi- 
asm, and  thus  destroyed  poor  Josephine's  peace  of 
mind,  while  she  was  unable  to  arouse  any  spark  of 
jealousy  in  him.  Even  if  she  had  wished  (and  she 
certainly  never  did)  to  make  him  jealous,  she  could 
not  commit  the  slightest  imprudence.  Since  she  was 
under  continual  observation  at  the  Tuilcries  and  at 
Saint  Cloud,  she  could  not  repeat  her  foolish  actions 
of  the  time  of  the  Directory;  the  slightest  coquetry, 
even  in  words,  was  forbidden:  and  when  Bonaparte's 
brothers  were  trying  to  persuade  him  to  take  steps 
towards  divorce,  she  could  not.  by  word  or  deed, 
give  them  the  least  ground  for  criticism  and  con- 
demnation. Men.  in  their  egotism  and  vanity. — and 
even  the  best  of  them  have  selfish  and  vain  points. — 
become  indifferent  to  women  when  they  are  abso- 
lutely secure  from  rivals;  and  as  Josephine's  love  for 
Napoleon  grew,  his  for  her  cooled.  And  yet  this 
woman,  humble,  submissive,  and  complaisant,  coquet- 
tish onlv  with  her  husband,  deserved  blame  for  only 
one  thing:  namely,  her  extravagance,  which  is  cer- 
tainly a  pardonable  fault;  for  by  spending  largely 
did  she  not  encourage  industry  and  trade  .' 

At    heart    Napoleon    did    Josephine     justice.        lb- 
knew  that  she   was   useful   to  him  and   brought    I 


£42  THE  WIFE  OF  THE  FIEST  CONSUL. 

happiness,  and  this  fact  served  to  defend  her  against 
the  incessant  attack  and  intrigues  of  her  enemies. 
When  he  was  kind  and  repentant  of  his  faults,  she 
was  happy  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  prosperity  of 
France  and  of  her  husband's  greatness. 

To  sum  up,  Madame  Bonaparte  was  not  lacking 
in  skill.  She  had  to  contend  against  women  younger 
and  prettier  than  herself  for  the  possession  of  Napo- 
leon's heart;  against  the  whole  Bonaparte  family, 
who  were  jealous  of  her  influence ;  against  a  multi- 
tude of  people,  who  made  much  of  her  childlessness, 
continually  saying  that  if  Napoleon  had  no  children, 
there  was  no  hope  for  the  future  security  of  France. 
Josephine  needed  much  skill  and  prudence  to  with- 
stand for  long  so  many  enemies.  She  was  successful 
in  1804,  when  she  was  crowned  Empress  by  her  hus- 
band's hand,  and  unsuccessful  in  1809;  but  even 
after  divorce  she  preserved  her  rank  and  title,  and 
seldom  has  a  repudiated  queen  been  treated  with  so 
much  respect. 

On  the  rock  of  Saint  Helena  Napoleon  often  recalled 
the  memory  of  this  companion  of  his  happy  years, 
who  had  charmed  and  fascinated  his  youth.  He  spoke 
in  praise  of  her  qualities,  her  attractions,  her  grace. 
He  said  that  her  unvarying  submission,  devotion,  and 
absolute  complaisance  amounted  to  virtues  and  at- 
tested the  political  skill  of  her  sex.  He  added  that 
her  kindness  was  a  weapon  against  her  enemies,  a 
charm  for  her  friends,  and  the  source  of  her  power 
over  her  husband ;  that  theirs  had  been  a  very  happy 


jo+epiitxf:  ix  iso.i. 


Darby  and  Joan  marriage;  that  she  lia<l  a  thorough 
knowledge  of  his  diameter;  that  she  was  always 
eager  to  please  him,  and  he  was  sure  that  she  would 
at  any  time  have  left  a  rendezvous  with  a  lover  to 
come  to  him.  This  last  reflection,  with  its  malice 
lieneath  a  cloak  of  friendliness,  was  the  last  lingering 
trace  of  his  old  jealousy,  and  made  even  him  smile. 
••  It  was  necessary  for  me,"  he  said  again  at  Saint 
Helena,  ••and  would  have  made  me  happy,  not 
merely  from  the  point  of  view  of  polities,  but  in  my 
domestic  life,  to  have  had  a  son  by  .Josephine.  The 
political  result  would  have  been  that  I  should  still  be 
on  the  throne;  for  the  French  Mould  have  been  as 
devoted  to  it  as  they  were  to  the  King  of  Rome,  and 
I  should  not  have  set  foot  in  the  flowery  abyss  which 
was  my  ruin.  Then  think  of  the  wisdom  of  human 
plans,  and  dare  to  call  a  man  happy  or  unhappy  be- 
fore his  death  !"  In  the  remarks  of  the  great  captive 
there  is  more  than  sympathy,  more  than  admiration, 
more  than  gratitude  for  the  woman  of  whom  he  said: 
"  T  gained  battles;  Josephine  gained  me  hearts.  .  .  . 
She  was  the  most  loving  and  best  of  women."  There 
is  feeling  and  tenderness  in  this  language;  it  is  the 
radiant  vision  of  youth  and  love  that  arose  bctore 
him.     The  evening  twilight  recalls  the  dawn. 


IV. 


MADAME  DE   REMUS  AT. 


WE  have  often  quoted  Madame  de  Re'musat's 
judgments  of  Napoleon  and  Josephine,  and 
it  may  be  a  good  moment  to  bring  her  before  us  to 
judge  her  in  her  turn,  with  all  the  respect  that  is  due 
to  her  memory.  Clara  Elisabeth  Jane  Gravier  de 
Vergennes,  Countess  of  Re'musat,  was  born  January 
5,  1780;  her  parents  were  Charles  Gravier  de  Ver- 
gennes, a  councillor  in  the  Parliament  of  Burgundy, 
and  Adelaide  Frances  de  Bastard.  She  was  the 
grand-niece  of  the  Count  of  Vergennes,  who  was 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs  under  Louis  XVI.  Her 
childhood  was  embittered  by  the  most  tragic  inci- 
dents. When  she  was  fourteen,  her  father  and  her 
grandfather  were  guillotined,  three  days  before  the 
fall  of  Robespierre.  As  the  property  of  those  who 
were  executed  was  confiscated,  Clara  de  Vergennes 
was  reduced  to  want;  but  she  found  a  protector  in  a 
Provencal  nobleman,  Augustine  Laurent  de  Re'musat, 
a  magistrate  at  Aix  before  the  Revolution,  whom  she 
married  early  in  1796,  when  barely  sixteen.  Her 
mother  had  been  intimate  with  the  Viscountess  of 
244 


-V.  i  ]).  1 MK    1)  K   l;  KM  ISA  7 . 


•J  I. 


Beauharnais,  then  Madame  Bonaparte;  and  when  the 
question  of  a  court  came  up.  the  First  Consul  and 
his  wife  thought  of  M.  and  .Mine,  de  Rdmusat,  who 
became  prefect  of  the  palace,  and  the  lirst  lady-in- 
waiting,  respectively,  at  the  beginning  of  the  Con- 
sulate for  life. 

Were  they  Bonapartists?  without  any  doubt.  The 
husband  would  no  more  have  been  false  to  Napoleon 
than  would  his  wife  to  Josephine.  They  both  dis- 
charged their  duties  with  zeal,  loyalty,  and  pleasure. 
Their  position,  too,  was  a  very  agreeable  one:  nearly 
every  minute  they  saw  the  most  famous  man  of  his 
day,  and  beheld,  as  it  were  from  an  opera-box,  a  sight 
which  interested  the  whole  world.  Madame  de  Re'mu- 
sat occupied  a  brilliant  position  which  must  have  been 
very  attractive,  especially  alter  the  poverty  and  tin- 
happiness  of  the  Terror;  and  when  she  recalled  those 
days  of  misery  she  must  have  thanked  Providence 
for  so  comfortable  a  harbor  after  such  terrible  storms. 
At  Saint  ('loud  and  at  the  Tuileries  she  found  every- 
thing that  could  gratify  a  woman's  vanity.  She  had 
much  influence  over  Josephine,  and  through  her  over 
Napoleon,  and  thus  she  could  be  of  service  to  a  great 
many  dmigrcs.  She  was  almost  the  only  woman  with 
whom  the  First  Consul  liked  to  talk.  lie  was  most 
kind  to  her  and  discussed  with  her  politics,  history, 
literature,  giving  evidence  of  bis  sympathy  and  esteem 
which  really  touched  her.  She  was  lively  and  intel- 
ligent, and  found  amusement  in  everything  she  saw. 
Her  life  was  tilled  with  most   exalted  entertainment. 


246  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIB  ST  CONSUL. 

No  bright,  imaginative  woman  could  fail  to  enjoy 
the  charm  of  this  varied,  busy  existence,  and  she  was 
perfectly  happy  in  it.  Her  son,  a  minister  under 
Louis  Philippe  and  Thiers,  wrote  to  Sainte-Beuve : 
"  It  was  not  as  a  last  resource,  by  necessity,  weakness, 
temptation,  or  as  a  mere  temporary  expedient,  that 
my  parents  gave  their  adherence  to  the  new  regime. 
They  joined  their  fortunes  with  it  freely  and  with 
perfect  confidence."  In  her  Memoirs,  Madame  de 
Remusat  said  of  the  man  whom  she  really  worshipped, 
"We  loved  and  admired  him:  this  confession  I  am 
ready  to  make." 

When,  in  1802,  she  assumed  her  position  in  the 
palace,  Madame  de  Re'musat  was  twenty-two  years 
old.  Without  being  really  a  beauty,  she  was  very 
attractive.  She  had  charm,  distinction,  breeding. 
Her  eyes,  black,  like  her  hair,  were  fine  and  expres- 
sive ;  her  features  were  regular,  though  perhaps  a 
little  large  ;  her  expression  benevolent  and  worthy ; 
in  short,  she  had  all  the  air  of  a  great  lady.  Her 
friend,  Talleyrand,  has  thus  described  her:  "  Clari 
[for  that  is  what  he  used  to  call  her]  is  not  what 
would  be  called  a  beauty,  yet  every  one  says  that 
she  is  agreeable.  .  .  .  Her  complexion  is  not  bril- 
liant, but  it  has  this  merit,  that  it  looks  whiter  the 
higher  the  lij^ht  in  which  it  is  seen.  Is  not  that  like 
her  whole  nature,  which  appears  better  and  more 
lovable  the  more  it  is  known  ?  She  has  large  black 
eyes ;  long  lashes  lend  her  face  an  expression  of 
mingled  tenderness  and  vivacity  which  is  perceptible 


MADAME  DE   HEMES  AT. 


247 


even  when  she  is  calm  and  wishes  to  express  nothing; 
hut  these  moments  are  rare.  .  .  .  Her  hair  generally 
hides  a  large  part  of  her  forehead,  which  is  a  pity. 
Two  dimples,  which  come  when  she  siuilo.  give  a 
piquancy  to  her  sweet  appearance.  She  is  often 
careless  in  her  dress,  hut  she  always  shows  good 
taste  and  is  very  neat.  This  neatness  is  part  of  the 
system  of  order  and  decency  from  which  CI  an  never 
varies." 

In  the  moral  sphere  Madame  de  Reanusat  was  cor- 
rectness itself.  Her  manners  were  faultless.  She 
was  tactful,  decorous,  discreet,  and  thoroughly  well- 
bred;  moreover,  she  was  much  hetter  educated  than 
most  of  the  women  of  the  Consular  Court.  As  Tal- 
levrand  said,  ••  Clari's  intelligence  is  broad  and  well 
cultivated:  I  know  no  one  who  talks  better;  when 
she  wishes  to  appeal'  instructed  she  gives  a  mark  of 
confidence  and  friendship.  Clari's  husband  knows 
that  he  has  a  treasure  in  her.  and  he  has  the  good 
sense    to   enjoy   it." 

Madame  de  Uemusat  was  a  devoted  and  faithful 
wife,  and  her  husband  did  not  need  to  be  jealous  of 
her  feeling  for  the  hirst  Consul  :  it  was  not  love,  but 
rather  warmly  enthusiastic  admiration.  On  his  side 
Napoleon  was  flattered  at  being  appreciated  b\  a 
woman  whose  intelligence  he  so  admired.  •*  I  remem- 
ber,'' she  savs,  "that  because  he  interested  me  wry 
much  when  he  spoke,  and  I  listened  with  plca-mre. 
he  said  that  I  was  an  intelligent  woman  when  I  had 
scareelv  spoken  two  consecutive  words. 


248  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

It  was  only  by  talking  with  her  that  the  First 
Consul  gave  evidence  of  his  preference  for  Madame 
de  Re'musat;  and  yet  these  conversations  aroused  a 
certain  jealousy,  and  her  reputation  once  came  very 
near  being  compromised  in  spite  of  her  correct  con- 
duct and  blameless  morals.  November  3,  1803,  Napo- 
leon, accompanied  by  the  generals  of  his  guard,  his 
aides,  and  M.  de  Remusat,  had  gone  to  the  camp 
of  Boulogne,  making  his  headquarters  at  Pont-de- 
Briques,  a  little  village  distant  about  a  league  from 
that  town.  M.  de  Re'musat  was  taken  seriously  ill 
almost  at  the  moment  of  his  arrival,  and  as  soon  as 
his  wife  heard  of  it,  she  went  to  take  care  of  him. 
She  arrived,  unsummoned,  in  the  middle  of  the  night, 
very  anxious  as  to  what  the  First  Consul  might  think 
of  what  she  had  done.  Her  own  words  will  describe 
what  took  place  the  next  day :  "  When  the  Consul  was 
up,  he  sent  word  for  me  to  come  to  him ;  I  was  agi- 
tated and  somewhat  flustered,  as  he  saw  the  moment 
I  entered  the  room.  He  kissed  me  at  once,  and 
making  me  sit  down,  calmed  me  by  his  first  words : 
'  I  was  expecting  you.  Your  presence  will  cure  your 
husband.'  At  these  words  I  burst  into  tears ;  he 
seemed  touched,  and  did  his  best  to  soothe  me.  Then 
he  told  me  that  I  must  lunch  and  dine  with  him 
every  day,  adding  with  a  laugh,  'I  must  take  great 
care  of  a  woman  of  your  age,  thrown  among  so  many 
soldiers.' ':  Madame  de  Rdmusat  obeyed,  and  during 
Napoleon's  stay  at  Pont-de-Briques  she  had  the  much- 
sough  t-f  or  honor  of  dining  tete-d-tete  with  him,  and 


MADAME  DK  TttiMCSAT.  249 

of  hearing  him  discuss  many  interesting  questions  of 
polities  and  literature. 

On  the  whole,  the  First  Consul  shines  in  his  rela- 
tions with  her;  he  appeal's  to  have  l)een  kind  to  her, 
affectionate,  I  might  almost  say  paternal,  if  he  had 
not  been  so  young,  for  Bonaparte  was  hut  thirty-four 
when  she  was  twenty-three  :  he  could  scarcely  l>e  her 
father.  There  are,  of  course,  sceptics  who  smile  at 
the  story  of  a  pretty  woman  who  arrives  at  a  camp  in 
the  dead  of  night,  and  dines  every  day  alone  with  a 
man  who,  besides  great  natural  charm,  has  all  the 
attraction  of  glory  and  power,  and  the  incident  is  not 
a  common  one  ;  but  for  ourselves  we  do  not  share  their 
incredulity:  her  account  bears  all  the  stamp  of  accu- 
ral-v.  Madame  de  Re'niusat  was  doubtless  extremely 
annoyed  by  the  suspicions  of  which,  to  her  great 
surprise,  she  was  the  object.  "It  was  the  first  time,'' 
she  savs.  "  that  I  saw  myself  judged  in  a  way  that  I 
did  not  deserve;  my  youth  ami  all  my  feelings  were 
shocked  bv  such  accusations;  one  needs  a  long  and 
bitter  experience  to  be  able  to  endure  the  world's 
injustice,  ami  perhaps  one  ought  to  regret  the  time 
when  they  strike  so  hard  and  painfully." 

Josephine  was  for  a  moment  jealous  of  her,  and 
treated  her  with  less  kindness  than  usual.  k"  I  could 
not  keep  myself,"  adds  Madame  de  IJemusat,  ''  from 
asking  her,  with  teal's  in  my  eyes,  'What.  Madame! 
is  it  I  whom  you  suspect'.'1'  As  she  was  kind  and  open 
to  every  passing  emotion,  she  kissed  me  and  was  as 
open  with  me  as  in  the  past.     Vet  she  did  not  wholly 


250  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

understand  me.  She  was  not  able  to  comprehend  my 
righteous  wrath,  and  without  troubling  herself  about 
the  relations  of  her  husband  to  myself  at  Boulogne, 
she  was  satisfied  with  knowing  that  at  any  rate  they 
could  have  been  of  but  brief  duration." 

Madame  de  Re'musat  experienced  much  annoyance 
from  this  trip  to  the  camp;  but  even  the  best  of 
women  are  not  without  a  tincture  of  coquetry;  and 
judging  from  her  frequent  reference  to  this  incident, 
one  is  inclined  to  think  that  it  was  not  wholly  un- 
pleasant to  her.  The  idea  that  it  could  have  been 
thought  possible  that  Napoleon  had  really  distin- 
guished her,  was  not  entirely  odious  to  her,  and  those 
who  read  her  account  will  readily  understand  the 
feeling  which  made  her  say  to  the  Emperor,  as  M. 
Charles  de  Re'musat  takes  pains  to  tell  us: 

"  Va,  je  t'ai  trop  aime  pour  ne  point  te  hair." 

This  trip  to  the  camp  at  Boulogne  marks  the 
moment  of  Madame  de  Re*musat's  warmest  enthusi- 
asm for  Napoleon.  She  came  back  to  Paris  literally 
enchanted  with  the  great  man.  "He  had  greeted 
me  so  warmly,"  she  herself  says,  "he  had  shown  so 
much  interest  in  my  husband's  recovery ;  in  a  word, 
his  consideration  touched  me  in  my  anxiety  and 
trouble,  and  then  the  amusements  he  had  devised  for 
me  in  that  dull  place,  and  the  petty  satisfaction 
which  my  vanity  drew  from  his  apparent  pleasure 
in  my  society,  —  all  these  things  affected  me,  and  in 
the    first   few  days    after    my    return    I   was    telling 


MADAME   DE   71  EMUS  AT.  2ol 


every  one,  with  all  the  gratitude  one  feels  at  twenty, 
that  his  kindness  to  me  had  been  extreme." 

Gradually  this  enthusiasm  lessened,  and  criticism 
succeeded  to  admiration.  Under  the  influence  of 
.Josephine's  sorrows,- — for  Madame  de  Rdmusat  re- 
mained a  lady-in-waiting  to  her  after  the  divorce,  —  she 
lived  remote  from  the  splendors  of  the  Empire,  in  a 
retreat  which  was  not  wholly  unlike  disgrace.  Grad- 
ually the  great  disasters  dispelled  her  illusions,  and 
when  the  final  blow  came,  she  forgot  the  tricolor  in 
her  love  for  the  white  Hag.  Even  when  the  Con- 
sulate and  the  Empire  were  most  flourishing,  there 
yet  lingered  in  the  depths  of  her  soul  certain  dim 
memories  of  Royalism,  due  to  her  birth  and  the  first 
impressions  of  her  childhood.  On  his  return  from 
Elba,  Napoleon  said  to  Benjamin  Constant:  "The 
nobles  served  me;  they  crowded  my  anterooms; 
there  were  no  places  which  they  did  not  accept, 
ask  for,  solicit.  T  have  had  Montmorencys,  Noailles, 
Ilohans,  Beauvans,  Mortemarts.  But  that  is  as  far 
as  it  went.  The  horse  curveted,  and  was  well 
groomed,  but  T  could  feel  him  trembling."  During 
the  Hundred  Davs,  Madame  de  Ilemiisaf  sided  with 
the  Bourbons,  and  her  fear  ot  Napoleon's  resentment 
was  so  great  that  she  lost  her  bead,  and  threw  into 
the  tire  the  manuscript  diary  which  she  bad  kept 
faithfully  while  she  was  attached  to  the  consular 
and  the  imperial  court.  Those  Memoirs  would  have 
been  the  real  expression  of  her  thought.  What  a 
pity    it    is    that    she    bad    not   sufficient    presence    of 


252  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIB  ST  CONSUL. 

mind  to  save  them,  —  a  thing  she  could  easily  have 
done ! 

Under  the  second  Restoration,  the  former  Prefect 
of  the  Imperial  Palace  became  the  Royalist  Prefect 
of  the  Haute  Garonne,  and  subsequently  of  the  Nord ; 
and  his  wife  devoted  the  leisure  of  life  in  the  prov- 
inces to  literature.  At  Lille,  in  1818,  she  began  to 
write  a  novel,  called  "  The  Spanish  Letters,  or  the 
Man  of  Ambition " ;  but  there  appeared  a  posthu- 
mous book  of  Madame  de  StaeTs,  "  Thoughts  on  the 
French  Revolution,"  which  made  so  deep  an  impres- 
sion on  her  that  she  wrote,  May  27,  to  the  son :  "  A 
new  whim  has  seized  me.  You  know  that  I  wake  up 
every  morning  at  six,  and  write  until  half-past  nine. 
Well,  I  was  at  work,  with  all  the  manuscript  of  my 
novel  about  me,  but  some  of  Madame  de  StaeTs  chap- 
ters kept  running  through  my  head.  Suddenly,  I 
threw  my  story  away,  took  some  clean  paper,  bitten 
by  the  necessity  of  writing  something  about  Bona- 
parte. .  .  .  Facts  and  words  thronged  upon  me,  and 
to-day  and  yesterday  I  have  written  twenty  pages; 
it  has  moved  me  very  much." 

It  is  the  Memoirs,  written  thus,  in  1818,  by  Madame 
de  Re'musat,  that  have  been  published,  Avith  an  inter- 
esting preface  by  her  grandson.  In  giving  the  book 
to  the  world,  M.  Paul  de  Re'musat  has  not  merely 
complied  with  his  father's  wishes ;  he  has  done  good 
service  to  letters  and  to  history.  The  work  has  called 
forth  numerous  discussions ;  but  discussion  only  helps 


MADAME   T)K   KfiMUSAT. 


a  book  and  insures  its  success.      Every  original  book 
needs  to  Ik-  subjected  to  criticism. 

To  judge  Madame  de  Remusat's  Memoirs  impar- 
tially, account  must  be  taken  of  the  successive  influ- 
ences to  which  she  was  exposed,  and  it  must  be  borne 
in  mind  that  her  changes  of  opinion  were  those  of  the 
society  and  the  time  in  which  she  lived.  France,  with 
its  enthusiasms  and  its  disenchantments,  is  like  a 
woman.  At  lirst  the  country  adored  Napoleon  most 
ecstatically;  then,  that  feeling  passing  away,  she 
hated  him,  though  for  but  a  moment,  and  after  the 
first  effervescence  was  over,  the  nation  tenderly  re- 
turned to  him  who  had  been  its  idol.  Written  earlier, 
or  written  later,  Madame  de  Remusat's  Memoirs  would 
not  have  been  what  they  now  are.  Written  earlier, 
they  would  have  borne  marks  of  the  Imperial  period; 
and  later,  they  would  probably  show  traces  of  the 
influence  of  the  Liberals  at  the  time  of  the  Restora- 
tion, when  they  were  all  full  of  Napoleon's  glory;  and 
possibly  Madame  de  R6*musat  would  have  .spoken  of 
the  Emperor  as  did  her  son,  Louis  Philippe's  eminent 
minister.  For  we  must  not  forget  that  it  was  Charles 
de  Remusat  who  uttered  these  words  from  the  tribune 
of  the  Chamber  of  Deputies:  "He  was  our  Emperor 
and  King,  and  thus  is  entitled  to  be  buried  at  Saint 
Denis;  but  Napoleon  does  not  require  the  ordinary 
burial  of  kings;  he  should  still  reign  and  command 
in  the  enclosure  where  shall  rest  the  country's  soldiers, 
and  whence  those  who  are  called  on  to  defend  it  >hall 
draw  fre>h  inspiration.      His  sword  shall  be  laid  upon 


254  THE   WIFE  OF    THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 


his  tomb.  Art  shall  construct  beneath  the  dome  in 
the  middle  of  the  temple,  consecrated  by  religion  to 
the  God  of  armies,  a  tomb  worthy,  if  possible,  of  the 
name  which  is  to  be  placed  there.  This  monument 
ought  to  have  a  simple  beauty,  grandiose  form,  and 
that  aspect  of  absolute  solidity  which  seems  to  defy 
the  effect  of  time.  Napoleon  needs  a  monument  as 
lasting  as  his  fame."  In  these  words  M.  Charles  de 
Rdmusat  did  not  think  that  he  was  unfaithful  to  his 
Liberalism,  and  the  Minister  of  the  government  of 
July  ended  his  discourse  with  these  words  :  "  It  be- 
longed to  the  Monarchy  of  1830,  which  was  the  first 
to  rally  all  the  forces  and  to  conciliate  all  the  wishes 
of  the  French  Revolution,  to  build  and  to  honor  the 
statue  and  the  tomb  of  a  popular  hero;  for  there  is 
one  thing,  and  one  thing  only,  which  need  dread  no 
comparison  with  glory,  and  that  is  liberty." 

Madame  de  Re'musat's  life  was  too  short ;  she  died 
suddenly,  aged  forty-one,  in  the  night  of  December  10, 
1821,  the  year  of  Napoleon's  death.  The  misfortunes 
which  had  swept  over  France  were  too  recent.  Her 
patriotic  spirit  had  been  sorely  distressed  by  the 
invasion,  and  it  was  witli  a  feeling  of  bitterness  which 
we  can  readily  understand  that  like  many  of  her  con- 
temporaries she  asked  herself  what  was  the  final  result 
of  so  many  efforts,  so  much  heroism,  so  many  sacri- 
fices, and  so  much  bloodshed.  Let  us  add,  that  she 
was  sincere.  If  she  had  published  her  Memoirs  dur- 
ing her  lifetime  to  flatter  the  Restoration  and  to 
secure  her  husband's    advancement,  she  would  have 


MADAME  I)K    lll.MVSAT. 


done  a  disgraceful  thing,  something  of  which  she 
was  incapable.  Like  Saint-Simon,  she  wrote  for  no 
personal  interest,  hut  to  make  up  for  long  restraint, 
and  to  say  freely  what  she  believed  to  l>e  the  truth. 
When  her  Memoirs  appeared,  all  the  persons  were 
dead;  the  passions  of  the  time  had  disappeared  to 
give  place  to  the  impartial  judgment  of  history,  and 
although  Madame  de  Remnsat  had  been  in  attendance 
on  Napoleon  and  Josephine,  her  testimony  will  1x3 
listened  to,  if  not  accepted. 

While  there  may  be  room  for  reserve  as  to  the 
historical  value  of  the  book,  its  literary  value  is 
incontestable.  It  is  a  living  work,  one  that  has  been 
lived,  as  people  say  nowadays.  Madame  de  Remnsat 
always  expresses  herself  like  a  woman  of  intelligence 
and  like  a  lady.  Her  style  is  soln-r  and  incisive;  she 
had  a  keen  observation,  and  in  a  few  strokes  she  made 
admirable  sketches.  Those  who  blame  her  harsh 
judgment  of  Napoleon  should  remember  that  towards 
the  end  of  her  life  she  took  a  gentler  view  of  the 
great  man,  and  that  in  1S21  she  held  verv  different 
views  from  those  she  had  held  in  1*15  and  ISIS. 
As  her  son  says:  "Her  letters  will  show  how  im- 
portant a  plaee  Napoleon  had  kept  in  her  thought.-,, 
how  much  his  memory  moved  her,  and  what  pain 
and  grief  she  felt  in  hearing  of  his  unhapp\  exile  to 
Saint  Helena.  When,  in  the  summer  of  1SJ1.  she 
heard  of  his  death.  I  saw  her  burst  into  tears,  and 
she  never  named  him  without  evident  sadness.  ' 

Already  she  was  indignant   with  certain   instances 


250  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  Fill  ST  CONSUL. 

of  apostasy,  and  angry  at  the  attitude  of  those  who 
scornfully  called  the  great  Emperor  Bonaparte,  after 
they  had  been  his  flatterers  and  courtiers.  One  even- 
ing there  was  given  at  the  Theatre  Fran§ais  an  adap- 
tation of  Schiller's  "Mary  Stuart,"  and  there  took 
place  an  incident  thus  described  by  M.  Charles  de 
Re'musat:  "In  one  scene  Leicester  refuses  to  listen 
to  a  young  man  who,  counting  on  his  secret  feel- 
ings, proposes  to  him  a  way  of  saving  the  Queen  of 
Scotland,  and  pretends  not  to  know  him.  Talma 
gave  admirably  the  haughty  cowardice  of  the  cour- 
tier, who  disavows  his  own  love  from  fear  of  being 
compromised,  and  refuses  to  listen  to  the  young  man 
with  overwhelming  insolence :  '  What  do  you  want 
of  me  ?  I  know  you  not.'  The  act  came  to  an  end, 
and  every  one  in  our  box  was  full  of  admiration  for 
the  scene,  and  my  mother,  who  was  much  moved, 
had  just  said,  in  words  to  this  effect,  '  That's  the  way 
it  was ;  I  have  seen  it,'  when  there  suddenly  appeared 
at  the  door  of  the  box  M.  de  B.,  to  whom  certainly 
no  particular  application  could  be  made,  but  who  had 
been  a  chamberlain  of  the  Emperor.  My  mother 
could  not  restrain  herself.  She  said  to  Madame  de 
Catellan,  'If  you  knew'  —  and  burst  into  tears." 
Noble  and  generous  tears,  which  efface  a  great  deal. 

Doubtless  Madame  de  Re'musat,  when  she  was 
writing  her  Memoirs,  had  no  idea  of  the  noise  they 
would  make.  Politics  had  some  share  in  their  suc- 
cess, and  the  fame  of  the  book  has  grown  from  the 
discussion  of  which  it  was  the  cause  or  the  pretext. 


MADAME   DE   llEMUSAT.  2f>7 


Certain  critics  have  taken  advantage  of  it  to  utter 
against  Napoleon  the  usual  denunciations;  as,  for 
example,  M.  John  Lemoinne,  speaking  for  humanity, 
has  thundered  against  war  and  against  the  mighty 
victor.  Speaking  of  Napoleon,  and  the  great  con- 
querors who  resemble  him,  he  says  eloquently:  "The 
most  humiliating,  the  most  revolting,  the  most  hope- 
less thing,  is  not  seeing  them,  like  the  Indian  chariot, 
impassively  crushing  the  wretches  who,  in  their  idol- 
atry, fling  themselves  beneath  the  wheels,  destroying 
bodies  and  soul,  mind  and  matter,  grain,  trees,  fruit, 
the  product  of  toil,  the  bodies  of  children,  mothers' 
hearts,  every  law,  every  liberty,  everything  which 
lived  and  only  asked  to  live ;  no,  it  is  seeing  the 
moral  degradation,  the  dishonoring  need  of  servitude, 
which  urge  the  human  horde  to  worship  the  crimes 
of  which  it  is  the  victim,  to  adore  the  hands  which 
smite  it,  to  kiss  the  feet  which  crush  it." 

On  the  other  hand,  another  critic  whose  original  tal- 
ent, lively  spirit,  and  sparkling  style  continually  grew 
younger,  Count  Armand  de  Pontmartin,  although  a 
Legitimist,  has  undertaken  the  defence  of  Napoleon 
against  Madame  de  Rdmusat,  as  follows:  "Can  it  be 
said  that  Madame  de  Rdmusat's  Memoirs  is  ;i  prose  ver- 
sion of  the  *  Chat  intents'?  Frankly,  I  think  not.  The 
success  of  the  book  is  great,  but  it  is  due  to  curiosity, 
not  to  love  of  scandal  ;  it  comes  from  interest  in  Bon- 
aparte, who  is  prominent  throughout  ;  although  re- 
duced in  size,  lie  overruns  the  canvas."  And  that  is 
true;    the  excitement  which  the   book    produced    in 


258  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

Europe,  and  possibly  still  more  in  America,  proves 
the  ardent  interest  in  everything  relating  to  the 
strange  and  colossal  figure  of  Napoleon.  And  was 
Madame  de  Re*musat  justified  in  speaking  ill  of  the 
Emperor  who  had  been  so  kind  and  affectionate  to 
her,  to  whom  also  she  owed  her  fame  with  posterity? 
for  had  it  not  been  for  him,  who  would  now  remember 
her?  Is  she  not  like  an  immortal  flower  growing  in 
the  shade  of  a  great  oak  ? 

But  let  us  listen  to  M.  de  Pontmartin :  "  Madame 
de  Re'musat  wished  to  take  from  this  man,  on  whom 
have  been  wasted  so  many  verses,  so  many  phrases, 
his  state  mantle,  his  legendary  halo,  his  epical  and 
magic  fame.  .  .  .  But  he  remains  still  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  ;  that  is  to  say,  a  man  so  above  and  beyond 
human  proportions  that  if  his  prodigious  ability  is 
denied,  he  can  be  explained  only  as  the  product  of 
magic  or  of  a  supernatural  intervention."  And  the 
Legitimist  critic,  doubtless  annoyed  at  some  sentences 
of  M.  Paul  de  Remusat  unfavorable  to  the  Restora- 
tion, concludes  thus  :  "  There  is  only  one  way  of  look- 
ing at  Napoleon,  from  which  it  is  possible  to  disparage 
him,  and  that  is  from  the  position  of  the  Royalists. 
If  you  do  not  grant  me  that,  I  shall  for  a  moment 
forget  my  cockade  and  my  flag  to  say  :  The  lowering 
of  great  men  and  the  exaltation  of  small  ones  are 
what  is  done  by  perishing  nations,  which  do  not  know 
how  to  perish  properly." 

But  we  must  not  speak  of  France  as  perishing,  for 
it  is  still  full  of  life.     The  country  has  not  yet  come 


MAIjAMK   1)K   HE  Ml  SAT. 


to  an  end  of  its  strength  or  its  wealth,  of  its  liberty 
or  its  glory.  But  may  it  be  wise  enough  to  aljstaiu 
from  disparaging  the  great  men  and  the  great  events 
to  which  it  owes  its  fame!  Let  it  never  condemn  its 
own  history  more  harshly  than  do  foreigners!  May 
it  be  saved  from  the  folly  and  madness  of  destroying 
its  idols!  Let  it  never  on  any  account  disavow  its 
three  imperishable  legends,  those  of  Royalty,  Impe- 
rialism, and  Republicanism.  No,  a  woman's  pretty 
claws  cannot,  with  all  her  wit,  even  scratch  the 
bronze  of  the  Column  Vendome.  Carthage  con- 
demned itself  the  day  it  disowned  Hannibal.  Zama 
ought  not  to  make  us  forget  Canme.  Waterloo  does 
not  destroy  Austerlitz. 

Certainly  there  would  l>e  justification  if  Napoleon 
were  complained  of  by  those  who  with  such  un- 
wearying persistence  had  suffered  so  much,  had 
fought  so  braved v  for  him,  and  without  hope  of  gain, 
without  a  murmur,  in  the  sands  of  Egypt  or  in  the 
snows  of  Russia;  had  followed  him  tirelessly  through 
all  his  battles,  from  Areola  and  the  Pyramids  to 
Moscow.  Leipsie,  and  Waterloo,  and  who.  poor,  eri[>- 
pled,  scarred,  found  refuge,  alter  so  many  combats, 
onlv  under  a  cottage  roof!  Well,  those  men,  far 
from  cursing  their  leader,  alwavs  worshipped  him, 
victorious  or  beaten,  and  alwavs  were  faithtul  to  him 
with  the  fervor  of  IJeranger's  two  grenadiers.  Il  one 
wished  to  denounce  the  general,  it  would  be  the  ice- 
cold  hand  of  the  veterans,  of  the  dead,  that  would 
close   thy   insulter's   mouth.      Let    us   not    revile   mili- 


260  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

tary  glory,  for  that  would  be  a  symptom  of  hopeless 
decadence ;  and  let  us  remember  that  the  more  gold 
a  nation  possesses,  the  greater  is  its  need  of  arms  to 
guard  its  wealth.  Our  country's  greatness  cost  it 
too  many  efforts,  too  many  sacrifices,  too  much  blood, 
for  it  to  be  willing  to  renounce  its  heroic  inheritance. 
Let  us,  who  are  the  sons  of  soldiers,  not  forget  our 
fathers,  or  fold  our  glorious  banners  I 


V. 

THE  TRIP   TO   BELGIUM. 

/^\  OIXCt  Lack  to  1803,  we  find  France  triumphant 
VJX"  Piedmont  had  just  heen  annexed  to  its  terri- 
tory, which  extends  from  the  ocean  to  the  Rhine, 
from  the  Gulf  of  Genoa  to  the  month  of  the  Scheldt. 
Italy,  Switzerland,  Holland,  seem  to  In-  only  a  line 
of  sentinels,  ready  to  second  the  power  of  the  Consu- 
lar Republic.  The  English,  who  find  it  perfectly 
natural  t<>  have  taken  nearly  all  the  French  colonies, 
and  to  rule  over  every  sea,  are  unwilling  to  admit 
that  France  can  have  a  preponderating  influence  upon 
the  continent.  They  looked  with  alarm  on  Napoleon's 
glory  and  the  prosperity  of  the  country.  Sheridan 
said  in  the  House  of  Commons :  "Look  at  the  map  of 
Europe  now,  and  sec  nothing  hut  France.  .  .  .  Russia, 
if  not  in  Napoleon's  power,  is,  at  least,  in  his  influ- 
ence; Prussia  is  at  his  lieek  ;  Italv  is  his  vassal: 
Holland,  in  his  grasp;  Spain,  at  his  nod  ;  Turkey,  in 
his  toils;  Portugal,  at  his  feet.  What  is  there  left 
for  Bonaparte  to  conquer,  except  England"/  Hut  a 
country  as  great  as  England  cannot  suhntit  to  dt  feat.'' 
In  fact,  the  treaty  of  Amiens  produced   onl\  a   truce, 


2G2  THE    WIFE   OF  THE  FIRST   CONSUL. 

an  experimental  peace,  as  it  was  called  in  England. 
The  English,  who  were  always  hostile  and  always 
jealous,  remembered  Pitt's  words :  "  No  regular  gov- 
ernment must  be  established  in  France.  We  must 
fight  with  France  to  the  end."  Hence,  in  spite  of 
the  formal  stipulations  of  the  treaty,  they  refused 
to  evacuate  Malta.  The  First  Consul  said  to  the 
English  ambassador,  Lord  Whitworth:  "I  shall  never 
yield  on  this  point.  I  had  rather  see  you  in  posses- 
sion of  the  Faubourg  Saint  Antoine  than  of  Malta. 
.  .  .  Every  day  my  irritation  with  England  increases, 
because  every  puff  of  wind  that  comes  from  there 
carries  only  animosity  and  hate  towards  me.  ...  I 
am  stronger  than  you  on  land ;  rule  the  seas.  If  we 
can  come  to  an  understanding,  we  shall  rule  the 
world."  England  remained  obstinate.  Napoleon  did 
the  same.  A  renewal  of  the  conflict  became  inev- 
itable. 

March  14,  1803,  a  few  days  before  the  peace  was 
terminated,  the  Diplomatic  Body  met  as  usual  at  the 
Tuileries,  and  was  awaiting  in  Madame  Bonaparte's 
drawing-room  the  arrival  of  the  First  Consul  and  his 
wife.  Meanwhile  Josephine  was  finishing  her  dress- 
ing in  her  own  room,  and  Napoleon  was  sitting  on 
the  floor  by  her  side,  playing  with  the  son  of  Louis 
Bonaparte  and  Hortense,  a  baby  five  months  old. 
The  First  Consul  seemed  in  the  best  humor.  Madame 
de  Rernusat  spoke  to  him  about  it,  adding  that  proba- 
bly the  despatches  to  be  forwarded  after  the  audience 
Would  breathe  nothing  but  peace  and  concord.     Soon 


THE    77.7/'    To    UELUIl'M. 


%1\,.\ 


word  is  brought  that  the  Diplomatic  Body  is  assem- 
bled. Then  Napoleon's  fare  changed.  "Come, 
ladies!  "  and  pale,  his  face  drawn  with  the  anger  which 
is  soon  to  break  forth  like  a  terrible  thunder-storm,  he. 
hastily  entered  the  drawing-room,  and,  without  salut- 
ing any  one,  walked  straight  up  to  the  English  am- 
bassador. His  lips  were  trembling,  his  eyes  flashing. 
'•So  yon  have  determined  on  war?"  lie  said  to  Lord 
Whitworth.  "We  have  already  had  ten  years  of  it  ; 
yon  want  ten  years  more  of  it,  and  you  font-  me  to 
it."  Then  turning  to  the  ambassadors  of  Spain  and 
of  Russia,  "If  they  are  the  t i is t  to  draw  the  sword,  1 
shall  be  the  last  to  sheathe  it  ;  they  have  no  respect 
for  treaties  ;  henceforward  we  must  cover  them  with 
black  crape."  The  First  Consul  then  left  the  Eng- 
lish ambassador,  but,  growing  a  little  calmer,  he  re- 
turned to  him  after  a  few  seconds,  and  spoke  to  him 
politely  on  purely  personal  matters.  But  his  wrath, 
which  was  allayed  only  for  a  moment,  broke  out  again 
with  more  violence.  "What  is  the  meaning  of  those 
armaments?  Against  whom  are  these  precautionary 
measures?  T  have  not  a  single  armed  ship  of  the  line 
in  the  ports  of  France.  lint  if  vmi  arm,  T  shall  arm, 
too.  You  may,  perhaps,  destroy  France;  but  as  to 
intimidating  it,  never !"  At  that  moment  Napoleon 
seemed  overwhelmed  with  anger.  His  face  was 
ablaze.  Josephine  and  Madame  de  Hemusat  looked 
at  one  another  without  a  word. 

The  die    was    cast.     The    English    ambassador   de- 
manded his  passports  and  left  Paris  the  night  of  May 


264  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

12.  It  became  necessary  for  the  First  Consul  to  pre- 
pare for  the  great  struggle.  To  strike  the  imagina- 
tion of  the  people,  it  was  thought  desirable  that  he 
should  make  a  triumphal  appearance  in  Belgium, 
which  was  the  object  of  much  jealous  yearning,  and 
in  Antwerp,  which  was  like  a  loaded  pistol  aimed  at 
the  heart  of  England.  To  arouse  popular  enthusiasm 
and  to  strengthen  public  confidence,  Bonaparte  began 
by  asking  officially  the  prayers  of  the  archbishops  and 
bishops.  Had  he  not  said  to  Bourrienne  at  the  time 
of  the  Concordat,  "  You  will  see  how  much  good  I 
shall  get  from  the  priests"?  The  prelates  in  their 
charges  to  the  faithful,  rivalled  one  another  in  patri- 
otism and  in  devotion  to  the  Ruler  of  the  State.  "  Be 
of  good  heart,  my  very  dear  brother,"  wrote  the  Arch- 
bishop of  Paris,  "  the  Giver  of  victory  always  guides 
our  armies ;  they  have  scarcely  broken  camp,  and 
already  we  are  masters  of  the  continental  possessions 
of  our  rival.  But  the  conqueror  of  Europe  knows 
well  that  fortune  of  arms  is  fickle,  and  that  our  only 
confidence  is  in  conciliating  the  God  of  battles.  He 
wishes  us  to  ask  for  prayers  to  secure  the  blessing  of 
Heaven  upon  our  just  undertakings.  The  love  that 
you  have,  my  very  dear  brothers,  for  your  country, 
the  gratitude  that  you  owe  to  a  gentle,  beneficent, 
and  paternal  government,  are  a  sure  guarantee  of  the 
zeal  with  which  yon  will  second  our  religious  senti- 
ments. "  Among  other  charges  we  will  quote  from 
that  of  the  Archbishop  of  Rouen:  "Let  us  pray 
God,  that  this  man  of  his  right  hand,  this  man  who 


THE    TRIP    TO    BELGIUM.  265 


by  his  command  has  done  so  much  for  the  restoration 

nt  his  worship,  and  who  proposes  to  do  still  more. 
shall  continue  to  be  like  Cyrus,  the  Christ  of  Provi- 
dence, that  it  may  watch  over  his  life  and  cover  him 
with  its  wings ;  that  it  may  protect  his  person  from 
the  dangers  to  which  the  hold  arc  exposed  in  lxittle, 
and  from  the  envy  and  calumny  which  pursue  the 
deserving." 

The  clergy  kindled  enthusiasm.  The  First  Consul 
started  for  Belgium  with  all  the  glory  of  a  favorite 
son  of  the  Church.  In  this  journey,  which  was  a 
long  triumphal  march,  all  the  monarchical  ceremonies 
reappeared:  the  mayors  brought  to  him  the  keys  of 
the  cities;  the  priests  sang  the  TV  Deum ;  young 
girls,  clad  in  white,  presented  him  with  boiupiets; 
rich  voting  men  formed  guards  of  honor  and  brilliant 
cavalry  escorts ;  there  was  an  abundance  of  military 
music;  church-bells  were  rung  at  full  peal,  drums 
were  beaten ;  everywhere  lie  was  warmly  greeted ; 
and  the  people  were  drawn  by  curiosity,  as  much  as 
by  admiration  and  gratitude,  to  crowd  aljout  the  hero 
of  the  Pyramids  and  of  Marengo.  Everywhere  there 
were  triumphal  arches  and  illuminations;  and  Bona- 
parte, who  was  generally  very  impatient,  did  not  tire 
of  this  ceremonial.  There  is  one  fragrance  that  the 
rulers  of  empires,  kingdoms,  and  republics  always 
breathe  without  fatigue:  it  is  that  of  incense.  Jose- 
phine accompanied  him,  with  a  suite  of  ladies,  like  a 
queen  ;  she  followed  her  husband  from  town  to  town 
lie  was  anxious  to  have  his  gracious  and  sympathetic 


266  THE   WIFE  OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

wife  with  him  to  complete  his  list  of  fascinations, 
He  withdrew  the  crown-diamonds  from  the  place 
where  they  were  stored,  and  insisted  on  her  wearing 
these  precious  jewels  which  formerly  belonged  to  the 
Queens. 

They  left  Saint  Cloud  June  24,  1803 ;  a  stop  was 
made  at  Compi£gne ;  and  on  the  26th  they  reached 
Amiens,  where  Napoleon  was  welcomed  by  a  crowd 
of  more  than  thirty  thousand  persons.  The  most 
ardent  wanted  to  unharness  the  horses  and  drag  his 
carriage.  The  ovation  was  most  enthusiastic.  Jose- 
phine wept  for  joy,  and  even  Bonaparte's  eyes  moist- 
ened. The  priest  of  a  parish  of  Abbeville  said  to 
him,  "Religion,  as  well  as  France,  owes  everything 
to  you;  we  owe  everything  that  we  are  to  you;  I 
owe  to  you  all  that  I  am."  There  was  an  old  custom 
that  whenever  a  King  of  France  lodged  at  Amiens, 
the  city  should  present  him  with  four  swans,  and 
this  custom  was  revived  in  honor  of  the  First  Consul, 
who  ordered  the  swans  sent  to  Paris  to  be  placed  in 
one  of  the  basins  of  the  Tuileries  gardens,  in  order 
to  show  that  he  was  regarded  as  a  sovereign. 

In  leaving  Amiens  by  the  Calais  gate,  Bonaparte 
read  the  inscription,  "  Road  to  England."  From 
there  lie  went  to  Boulogne,  to  Dunkirk,  and  thence 
to  Lille,  where  he  arrived  July  6.  The  greater  part 
of  the  inhabitants  of  Douai,  Valenciennes,  Cambrai, 
and  all  the  adjacent  villages,  had  assembled  on  foot, 
on  horseback,  in  carriages  and  chariots.  The  mayor 
of  Lille,  in  presenting  the  First  Consul  with  the  keys 


THE   TRIP    TO   BELGIUM.  267 

of  the  city,  .said,  '•  If  the  inhabitants  were  fortunate 
enough  to  preserve  them  from  every  attack  of  a  hos- 
tile army,  they  are  proud  to  offer  them  without  a 
stain  to  you  to-day."  The  municipality  gave  him 
a  grand  banquet  in  the  theatre,  and  when  he  entered 
he  was  greeted  with  the  popular  song,  — 

"  Where  is  oik;  happier  than  in  the  bosom  of  one's  family?  " 

Josephine  wrote,  July  9,  to  her  daughter  Hortense : 
'•I  have  been  busy  receiving  compliments  ever  since 
I  left  Paris.  You  know  me,  and  you  may  judge  for 
yourself  whether  I  should  not  prefer  a  quieter  life. 
Fortunately  the  society  of  my  ladies  consoles  me  for 
the  noisy  life  I  lead.  I  receive  every  morning,  and 
often  every  evening,  and  then  I  have  to  go  to  a  ball. 
This  T  should  enjoy  if  you  could  be  with  me,  or  I 
could  see  you  amusing  yourself.  What  I  miss  more 
than  anything  is  my  dear  Hortense  and  my  little 
grandson,  whom  I  love  almost  as  much  as  I  do  his 
mother."' 

From  Lille  they  went  to  Belgium,  the  country  to 
which,  and  with  reason,  Napoleon  attached  so  much 
importance.  At  the  signing  of  the  treaty  of  Amiens, 
he  had  said  to  a  Belgian  delegation:  "The  treaty  of 
Campo-Formio  had  already  defined  Belgium's  posi- 
tion. Since  then  our  armies  have  known  reverses. 
It  was  thought  that  the  Uepublie  might  grow  weak, 
and  vield  in  consequence  of  its  misfortunes,  but  this 
was  a  great  error.  Belgium  makes  part  of  France, 
like  its  oldest  province,  like    .ill    the    territories    ac- 


268  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

quired  by  formal  treaty,  like  Brittany  and  Burgundy. 
.  .  .  Were  the  enemy  in  the  Faubourg  Saint 
Antoine,  the  French  government  ought  never  to 
abandon  its  rights." 

On  his  arrival  at  Ostend,  in  the  evening  of  July  9, 
the  First  Consul  found  the  streets  illuminated  and 
decked  with  flags.  On  the  13th  he  was  at  Bruges. 
On  the  bridge  of  Molin  there  was  an  imitation  of  the 
bridge  of  Areola.  Bonaparte  was  represented  in  a 
general's  uniform,  with  a  flag  in  his  hand,  among 
life-size  figures  of  French  and  Austrian  soldiers.  It 
was  all  somewhat  grotesque,  although  a  tolerably 
accurate  reproduction  of  the  celebrated  battle,  and  it 
did  not  fail  to  amuse  the  First  Consul ;  but  he  saw 
the  kind  intentions  of  the  citizens  of  Bruges,  and 
thanked  them  for  recalling  memories  which  were 
dear  to  him. 

At  Ghent,  where  he  arrived  July  14,  the  prefect 
of  the  Department  said  to  Josephine :  "  You,  whose 
tender  affection  is  for  the  First  Consul's  happiness 
what  the  admiration  of  his  century  is  for  his  glory, 
you  we  beg  to  accept  our  respects.  We  know,  ma- 
dame,  how  you  rule  every  heart  by  your  kindness. 
Since  this  quality  is  adorned  by  every  grace  of  mind 
and  talent,  it  is  all-powerful ;  deign  then  to  believe, 
madame,  that  here  all  are  submissive  to  your  laws." 
Nevertheless,  the  reception  on  the  part  of  the  popu- 
lace was  a  little  less  enthusiastic  than  that  of  other 
places.  Bonaparte  noticed  this,  and  that  evening  he 
said  to  Josephine ,  "  The  people  here  are  devout,  and 


TTIE   TRIP   TO  BELGIUM.  2W 


under  the  influence  <>f  the  priests;  tomorrow  wc  must 
make  a  long  visit  to  the  church,  win  the  clergy  by 
some  device,  and  so  we  shall  regain  ground."  In 
fact,  he  heard  mass  with  all  the  air  of  profound  devo- 
tion, addressed  some  particularly  amiable  words  to 
the  bishop,  and  from  that  moment  enthusiasm  was  at 
its  height,  and  the  First  Consul  and  his  wife  were 
cheered  at  a  ball  given  them  by  the  city.  The  next 
day  there  was  a  grand  entertainment  on  the  parade, 
where  a  sort  of  a  play  was  acted,  consisting  of  many 
allegories.  The  rivers  of  Belgium  were  represented 
as  making  an  alliance  with  the  Seine  and,  under  the 
protection  of  the  god  of  Commerce,  crushing  the 
pride  of  the  Thames. 

July  18,  they  arrived  at  Antwerp,  whence  Davoust 
wrote  to  his  wife:  "We  are  here  in  a  very  pretty 
city  which  needs  only  a  few  years  of  peace  to  become 
one  of  the  first  of  Europe.  The  inhabitants  received 
the  First  Consul  as  if  they  had  been  French  for  a 
century.  This  is  more  surprising  because  they  have 
never  given  a  reception  to  any  of  their  sovereigns. 
When  Joseph  II.  came  to  see  them,  the  windows 
were  kept  closed,  and  there  was  no  one  in  the  streets. "' 
On  this  occasion,  however,  the  population  of  Antwerp 
was  wild  with  enthusiasm.  There  was  a  curious  pro- 
cession in  which  a  huge  giant  was  carried  through 
the  streets,  a  ceremony  only  known  on  very  great 
occasions,  and  one  which  had  not  been  repeated  since 
1767.  The  mayor  offered  the  First  Consul,  in  the 
name  of  the  city,  six  magnilicent  bay  hoj.ses.     Bom 


270  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

aparte,  in  return,  presented  this  official  with  a  scarf 
of  honor,  a  distinction  previously  accorded  to  but 
two  mayors,  those  of  Lyons  and  of  Rouen.  Bona- 
parte was  incessantly  thinking  of  Antwerp  as  the 
city  where  he  hoped  to  build  a  navy  that  should 
always  rule  between  the  Scheldt  and  the  Thames. 

Napoleon  and  Josephine  stopped  for  a  few  hours 
at  Mechlin,  on  their  way  from  Antwerp  to  Brussels. 
They  met  there  the  Archbishop,  Monsignor  de  Roque- 
laure,  a  dignitary  of  the  old  regime,  formerly  Bishop 
of  Senlis,  under  Louis  XVI.  The  kindly  and  witty 
prelate  said  to  Josephine :  "  Madame,  after  being 
united  to  the  First  Consul  by  the  sacred  bonds  of 
a  holy  alliance,  you  now  find  yourself  surrounded  by 
his  glory.  This  situation  adds  to  the  charms  of  your 
intelligence,  to  the  sweetness  of  your  character,  and 
the  fascinations  of  your  company.  Continue,  madame, 
to  exercise  those  amiable  qualities  which  you  have 
received  from  the  Author  of  every  perfect  gift ;  they 
will  be  for  your  husband  an  agreeable  relaxation  from 
the  immense  and  painful  tasks  to  which  he  devotes 
himself  every  day  out  of  love  for  his  country.  If  our 
prayers  and  our  vows  determine  our  mutual  destinies, 
you  will  both  be  happy,  and  your  happiness  will  secure 
ours."  Bourrienne  noticed  the  combination  of  religion 
and  gallantry  in  this  short  address.  "  Was  there  not," 
lie  adds,  "a  slight  deviation  from  ecclesiastic  propri- 
ety in  speaking  as  he  did  of  sacred  bonds  and  a  holy 
alliance,  when  it  was  a  matter  of  common  notoriety 
that    these  bonds  and  this  alliance  existed   only  on 


THE   TRIP    T<>   BELGIUM.  271 

the  municipal  records?  Or  did  the  Archbishop  have 
recourse  to  one  of  those  formulas  which  casuists 
call,  I  believe,  pious  fraud.-,  in  order  to  induce  the  pair 
to  do  what  he  congratulated  them  on  having  done?" 

Josephine  played  admirably  her  part  as  sovereign, 
for  she  deserved  no  other  name  when  she  was  wearing 
the  crown-jewels.  She  was  happy,  and  thoroughly 
enjoyed  her  undeniable  success.  The  people  who 
showed  her  so  much  sympathy  were  sincere;  then 
there  was  no  artificiality  in  the  sentiments  she  in- 
spired; they  were  the  reward  of  her  charm,  her  grace, 
her  sweetness,  her  kindness,  her  amiability,  and  her 
bounty.  Her  face,  her  smile,  her  voice,  attracted 
eveiy  one.  Her  bearing  and  words  were  modest  and 
amiable,  with  no  trace  of  haughtiness.  Rich  and  poor, 
nobles  and  plebeians,  paid  equal  homage  to  the  woman 
who  possessed  so  much  tact  and  heart,  whom  every 
one  knew  to  be  generous,  obliging,  charitable,  and 
who  excited  no  envy  by  her  unexpected  good  fortune. 
It  seemed  as  if  she  had  been  born  to  tin.-  purple.  She 
might  have  served  as  a  model  to  more  than  one  prin- 
cess whose  ancestors  for  many  years  had  been  crowned 
heads. 

The  stay  at  Brussels  was  the  culmination  of  the 
success  of  this  journey.  When  they  reached  the 
boundaries  of  the  department  of  the  Dyle,  in  which 
the  capital  of  Belgium  is  situated,  Napoleon  and 
Josephine  saw  an  image  symbolizing  the  river,  in  the 
form  of  a  colossal  statue  seated  by  an  urn.  On  the 
pedestal    were    these    words:     •  I   give    my   name    to 


2*2  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

the  department ;  you,  yours  to  your  century."  At  a 
distance  of  two  leagues  from  Brussels,  the  First  Con- 
sul was  met  by  an  army  corps  of  twelve  thousand 
men  from  the  Belgian  fortresses,  and  a  guard  of 
honor,  consisting  of  five  hundred  mounted  men,  in  a 
red  uniform,  the  flower  of  the  young  men  of  Brussels, 
under  the  command  of  the  son  of  the  Prince  of  Ligne. 
As  soon  as  Bonaparte  saw  the  troops,  he  descended 
from  his  carriage,  got  on  horseback,  and  placed  him- 
self at  their  head.  It  was  as  a  general,  rather  than  as 
a  civil  ruler,  that  he  wanted  to  enter  Brussels.  At 
the  end  of  the  Allee  Verte  a  triumphal  arch  had 
been  erected  in  his  honor,  after  the  model  of  the 
arch  of  Titus  in  Rome.  On  each  side  was  an  amphi- 
theatre, covered  with  carpets,  where  were  seated 
a  number  of  women  richly  dressed.  Cries  of  "  Long 
live  Bonaparte !  Long  live  the  great  man ! "  re- 
sounded from  all  quarters.  Cannons  were  fired  as 
the  First  Consul  passed  under  the  triumphal  arch. 
Before  the  cathedral  of  Saint  Gudule  he  was  greeted 
by  the  clergy,  who,  in  their  robes,  with  a  cross  in 
front  of  them,  were  awaiting  him  on  the  steps  at  the 
entrance.  All  the  bells  and  chimes  were  rung.  Jose- 
phine made  her  way,  in  a  carriage  presented  by  the 
city,  through  a  rain  of  flowers.  The  weather  was 
perfect,  and  every  face  was  radiant  with  joy.  Besides 
the  people  of  Brussels  there  were  more  than  thirty 
thousand  strangers  who  had  come  from  the  Rhenish 
Provinces  and  Holland  to  see  the  great  man  and  his 
charming  wife.     Their  stay  at  Brussels  was  one  long 


THE    Tlil I'    TO    BELGIUM. 


scries  of  ovations.  Every  evening  the  crowded  streets 
were  illuminated. 

Announcement  was  made  that  Bonaparte  and  Jo- 
sephine were  to  be  present  on  Sunday  at  Saint  Gu- 
dule  to  hear  mass,  with  music,  which  was  celebrated 
with  extraordinary  pomp.  It  was  decided  that  the 
First  Consul  should  be  met  at  the  entrance  by  the 
clergy  with  the  cross,  and  that  he  should  be  led  in  a 
procession  beneath  the  canopy,  to  the  high  altar. 
He  was  unwilling  that  Josephine  should  share  this 
honor,  and  ordered  her  to  take  a  place  in  a  tribune 
with  the  Second  Consul. 

Mass  was  to  be  said  at  noon.  The  clergy  had 
assembled  at  the  entrance,  awaiting  Bonaparte's  arri- 
val, and  contrary  to  his  usual  habit  he  was  a  few 
minutes  late.  They  began  to  be  uneasy,  when  sud- 
denly he  was  seen  entering  by  a  side  door  ;  he  came 
in  alone,  and  took  his  place  on  the  throne  prepared 
for  him  near  the  high  altar.  The  astonished  priests 
hastened  back  to  the  choir,  and  the  service  began. 
Why  bad  Napoleon  thus  surprised  them?  Because 
lie  had  heard  that  on  a  similar  occasion  Charles  V. 
had  entered  the  cathedral  by  that  little  door  which 
had  since  been  called  the  door  of  Charles  V.  He 
wanted  to  do  what  the  great  Emperor  had  done. 

There  was  gnat  enthusiasm  among  the  populace 
when  the  hero  of  so  many  battles  reviewed  the  troops 
and  spoke  with  his  old  comrades  of  Egypt  and  Italy. 
At  Brussels  he  held  his  court  like  a  king.  He  re- 
ceived   Cardinal    Caprara,    whose    presence    math     a 


274  THE  WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

most  favorable  impression  on  the  Belgians,  who  are 
devout  Catholics.  He  was  surrounded  by  ministers, 
members  of  the  Diplomatic  Body,  and  a  number  of 
generals.  No  Emperor  of  Germany  ever  displayed 
greater  magnificence. 

Napoleon  and  Josephine  visited  Liege  and  Maas- 
tricht after  leaving  Brussels,  then  they  returned  to 
the  old  limits  of  France  by  Mdzieres  and  Sedan,  and 
reached  Saint  Cloud  again  August  12,  after  an  absence 
of  forty-eight  days,  during  which  time  they  had  visited 
seventeen  departments  and  eighty  towns.  General  de 
Se*gur  speaks  thus  in  his  Memoirs  of  this  trium- 
phal journey :  "  How  often  have  we  seen  Napoleon's 
interlocutors  surprised  by  his  perspicacity,  which  was 
so  keen  and  penetrating  that  it  seemed  almost  super- 
human! And  how  proud  we  were  at  having  been 
picked  out  by  him,  to  seem  to  be  in  his  confidence, 
to  be  at  times  his  spokesmen,  to  be  in  the  service  of 
a  man  of  such  great  and  universal  genius !  Those 
who  left  him,  to  give  way  to  others,  were  loud  in 
their  admiration  and  warm  in  their  gratitude,  as  we 
often  saw  when,  after  his  departure,  his  orders  showed 
that  everything  was  to  be  embellished,  improved,  per- 
fected ! "  The  First  Consul's  return  to  Saint  Cloud 
was  the  signal  for  fresh  congratulations,  new  ad- 
dresses, which  proved  that  the  art  of  flattery  was 
making  progress  from  day  to  day.  Louis  XIV.  him- 
self never  received  more  adulation ;  whatever  the 
form  of  government,  even  under  a  Republic,  France 
is  a  country  that  needs  idols. 


THE    Tlilt'    TO    BELGIUM. 


But  consider  the  nothingness  of  human  glory  !  On 
his  triumphal  march  to  Brussels,  Napoleon  did  not 
dream  that  near  the  great  Belgian  capital  there  was 
a  little  obscure  village  called  Waterloo;  on  his  way 
baek  through  Sedan,  he  little  suspected  what  was  to 
take  place  within  the  walls  of  that  town  sixty-seven 
years  later.  If  it  were  granted  to  us  to  know  the 
future,  what  man  could  have  a  moment  of  pride  or 
even  of  vanity,  even  if  he  called  himself  Alexander, 
Csesar,  Charlemagne,  or  Napoleon?  Power,  wealth, 
glory,  all  are  but  trinkets.  They  are  but  the  rattles 
with  which  fickle  Fortune  plays  for  a  moment  and 
then  breaks  in  wantonness. 


VI. 


THE   PRINCESS   BORGHESE. 


AFTER  the  First  Consul's  journey  through  Bel- 
gium, Saint  Cloud  acquired  all  the  air  of  an 
imperial  or  royal  residence.  There  was  a  renewal 
of  the  etiquette  and  the  usages  of  the  old  regime. 
When  Madame  Bonaparte  received  an  official  depu- 
tation, she  arose  and  listened,  standing,  to  the  Presi- 
dent's remarks,  thanked  him  for  the  sentiments  he 
had  expressed,  then  sat  down  without  inviting  her 
visitors  to  do  the  same,  and  after  a  few  minutes  of 
unimportant  conversation  stood  up  again,  and  dis- 
missed her  courtiers.  Boots,  trousers,  sabres,  disap- 
peared, and  silk  stockings,  buckled  shoes,  dress- 
swords,  hats  carried  under  the  arm,  and  lace  ruffles, 
took  their  place.  In  respect  to  headdress  there  was 
a  question  whether  the  fashion  of  Louis  XV.  or  that 
of  Louis  XVI.  should  be  revived ;  the  old  wig-makers 
were  at  swords'  points  with  the  new.  Every  morning 
Bonaparte's  head  was  an  object  of  great  interest;  if 
he  was  powdered,  every  one  had  to  imitate  him. 

In  this  monarchical,  rather  than  Republican,  circle, 
the  official  presentation  of  Pauline  Bonaparte,  with 
276 


THE    PRIXCESS    HOIIGHESE. 


her  new  title  of  the  Princess  Borghese,  produced  a 
sensation  that  was  the  delight  of  every  Dangeau  of 
the  time.  Napoleon's  sisters  were  treated  like  prin- 
cesses of  the  hlood.  Caroline,  whose  buskind,  Gen- 
eral  Murat,  held  the  important  post  of  governor  of 
Paris,  already  displayed  a  boundless  ambition  and 
great  family  pride.  Elisa  Bacciochi,  who  was  always 
surrounded  by  a  little  court  of  men  of  letters,  of 
whom  Fontanes  was  the  most  devoted,  desired  a  repu- 
tation as  a  wit,  as  a  female  Maecenas,  and  plaved  in 
tragedy  with  her  brother  Lueien,  who  fancied  himself 
a  second  Talma.  As  for  Pauline,  she  wished  to  wield 
only  one  sceptre,  and  that  sceptre  no  one  could  deny 
her;  it  was  that  of  beauty. 

Pauline  Bonaparte  was  born  at  Ajaccio,  October  20, 
1780.  During  the  first  Italian  campaign  she  had 
married  one  of  the  bravest  and  most  brilliant  of  her 
brothers  comrades  in  arms,  General  Leclere,  who, 
although  born  in  1772,  had  succeeded  in  acquiring  a 
reputation,  in  spite  of  his  youth.  Leclere  received  a 
command  in  the  expeditionary  corps  which  made  the 
perilous  campaign  of  Saint  Domingo,  and  the  First 
Consul,  In-ing  unwilling  that  so  pretty  a  woman  as 
Pauline  should  stav  in  Paris  alone,  ordered  her  to 
follow  her  husband.  If  we  mav  believe  Madame 
Junot  (the  Duchess  of  Abrantes).  the  beautiful 
Madame  Leclere  was  in  despair  at  the  thought  of 
leaving  Fiance.  "  C)  Lauivtte,"  she  said,  throwing 
herself  into  her  friend's  arms,  "how  fortunate  you 
are!      You  are  going  to  .stay  in    Paris,  and   heavens, 


278  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

what  a  tedious  life  I  shall  have  !  How  could  my 
brother  be  so  hard  and  cruel  as  to  exile  me  to  the 
society  of  savages  and  serpents  ?  And  then,  I  am  ill ; 
I  shall  die  before  I  get  there  !  "  Madame  Junot,  see- 
ing her  in  tears,  and  fearful  of  the  result,  consoled 
her  with  toys  and  finery,  like  a  child.  "  Pauline, 
you  will  be  a  queen  there ;  Pauline,  you  will  go 
everywhere  in  a  palanquin ;  you  will  always  have  a 
black  woman  to  wait  on  you,  and  you  will  walk 
under  orange-trees  in  blossom.  How  pretty  you  will 
-look  in  a  Creole  dress !  "  As  Madame  Junot  went 
on,  Pauline's  sobbing  lessened.  "  And  so  you  think, 
Laurette,  that  I  shall  look  pretty,  look  prettier  than  I 
do  now,  with  a  turban  like  a  Creole,  a  short  waist, 
and  a  skirt  of  striped  muslin?"  Madame  Leclerc 
rang  for  her  maid,  and  had  a  fine  collection  of  turbans 
brought,  which  had  just  come  from  India.  Madame 
Junot  picked  out  the  most  brilliant,  and  placed  it 
becomingly  on  Pauline's  graceful  head.  "  Laurette, 
you  know  how  much  I  love  you,  but  you  preferred 
Caroline  to  me  ;  well,  we  shall  see  if  you  don't  repent 
your  choice.  Now,  I  am  going  to  give  you  a  proof 
of  how  much  I  love  you.  You  must  come  to  Saint 
Domingo ;  you  shall  be  the  first  after  me.  I  shall  be 
queen,  as  you  said  just  now,  and  you  shall  be  vice- 
queen.  I  am  going  to  speak  to  my  brother  about  it. 
.  .  .  We  will  give  balls,  and  we  will  have  picnics 
among  those  beautiful  mountains.  Junot  shall  be 
commander  of  the  capital,  —  what  is  its  name  ?  I 
shall  tell   Leclerc  that  he  must  give  a  party  every 


THE   PRINCESS   liORGHESE.  27U 


day."  And  while  talking,  Pauline  pulled  Madame 
Junot's  ear,  in  imitation  of  the  First  Consul's  favorite 
gesture. 

Madame  Leclerc  departed  without  Madame  Junot. 
The  fleet  set  sail  for  Saint  Domingo  in  Hie  month  of 
December,  1801.  Every  luxury  and  elegance  had 
been  provided  for  the  ship  in  which  the  sister  of 
the  First  Consul  was  to  make  the  journey.  The 
beautiful  Pauline  resembled  Cleopatra  in  her  large. 
The  voyage  begun  thus  sumptuously  had  a  sad  issue. 
The  expedition  was  a  complete  failure;  and  in  this 
first  cheek  France  had  a  warning  of  future  disasters. 
During  this  unsuccessful  campaign,  Pauline  comported 
herself  noblv,  displaying  an  energy  worthy  of  her 
blood.  She  had  taken  with  her  her  little  bov  named 
Dermide,  a  curious  name  given  him  by  his  godfather, 
Napoleon,  who  at  that  time  was  passionately  fond  of 
Ossian.  At  Saint  Domingo  sin;  was  a  fond  mother, 
a  devoted  wife;  she  showed  no  fear  of  the  epidemics 
which  were  raging  on  the  island,  nor  of  the  insurrec- 
tion which  broke  out.  Her  husband  ordered  her  to 
sail  back  for  home  with  the  boy;  but  she  refused, 
saving  that  a  Bonaparte  could  not  run  from  danger. 
When  Leclerc  was  attacked  by  the  illness  whii  h 
carried  him  off  in  a  few  davs,  she  nursed  him  with 
incessant  care,  regardless  of  the  danger  o|  contagion 
from  the  yellow  fever,  and  piously  carried  hack  to 
France  the  remains  of  the  husband  whom  -he  mourned 
sincerely.  All  these  emotions  and  perils  had  affected 
her  health.      That    of   her  sun,  too,  wa>    dcMroved    bv 


280  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

the  deadly  climate,  and  the  boy  had  but  a  few  months 
to  live. 

Early  in  1803,  the  news  of  General  Leclerc's  death 
reached  Paris.  The  First  Consul  was  deeply  grieved, 
for  he  esteemed  and  liked  his  brother-in-law.  The 
next  day  letters  from  Toulon  announced  the  arrival 
at  that  port  of  the  ship  that  brought  Madame  Leclerc 
and  her  son,  together  with  the  remains  of  the  la- 
mented general.  "  In  January,  1803,"  says  Madame 
de  Re"musat,  "  the  young  and  pretty  widow  returned 
to  France.  She  was  at  the  time  the  victim  of  an  ill- 
ness from  which  she  always  afterwards  suffered ;  but 
though  weak  and  ailing,  and  dressed  in  mourning, 
she  seemed  to  me  the  most  charming  person  I  had 
ever  seen." 

General  Leclerc's  death  gave  rise  to  a  little  diplo- 
matic incident,  and  the  way  this  was  settled  shows 
once  more  how  much  the  Republic  under  a  Consul 
resembled  a  monarchy.  It  is  thus  told  by  Madame  de 
Rernusat:  "Bonaparte  went  into  mourning  as  well  as 
Madame  Bonaparte,  and  we  who  were  attached  to  the 
household  received  orders  to  do  the  same  thing.  That 
in  itself  was  somewhat  striking,  but  the  question  came 
up  about  the  visit  to  be  made  to  the  Tuileries  by  the 
ambassadors,  in  order  to  condole  with  the  Consul  and 
his  wife  in  their  loss.  It  was  conveyed  to  them  that 
politeness  required  that  they  too  should  wear  mourn- 
ing when  they  called.  They  met  to  deliberate,  and 
not  havinir  time   to    receive   instructions  from   their 


THE   PRINCESS    TiOnGIfESE.  2S1 


various  courts,  they  decided  to  make  the  visit  and 
to  olwerve  the  formalities  usual  in  such  cases." 

At  first  Pauline  seemed  an  inconsolable  widow,  a 
real  Artemisia.  She  had  her  hair  cut  off  in  order  to 
place  it,  in  token  of  her  grief,  within  her  husband's 
coffin.  "Oli!"  said  the  First  Consul,  ''she  knows  it 
will  come  out  much  handsomer  for  having  l>een  cut." 

A  lady  equally  conspicuous  for  intelligence,  kindli- 
ness, and  talents,  the  Marchioness  of  Blocqueville, 
the  worthy  daughter  of  the  famous  Marshal  Davoust, 
has  published  a  remarkable  book,  called  "  Marshal 
Davoust,  Prince  of  Eekmiihl,  described  by  his  family 
and  by  himself."  In  this  volume,  which  is  full  of 
interesting  details,  is  to  be  found  a  curious  note  on 
the  subject  of  Pauline's  grief.  Davoust,  it  should  be 
said,  bad  married  Mademoiselle  Aimee  Leclerc,  sister 
of  General  Leclerc,  and  hence  sister-in-law  of  Pauline 
Ponaparte.  "The  body  of  General  Leclerc  was  brought 
I  tack  from  Saint  Domingo,  and  laid  in  the  park  of 
Montgobert.  His  heart  was  enclosed  in  a  gold  urn. 
The  Princess  Pauline  Uonaparte,  his  wife,  who  had 
heeii  anxious  to  accompany  him  on  that  fatal  expedi- 
tion, after  covering  his  face  with  her  beautiful  hair, 
like  another  Agrippina,  but  more  beautiful,  tenderer, 
less  ambitious,  as  well  as  less  severe  than  the  first, 
brought  back  the  heart  of  her  husband,  after  having  en- 
graved on  the  vase  which  held  it  a  few  words  of  love. 
Doubtless  it  would  be  possible  to  inscribe  beneath 
this  utterance  of  ostentatious  grief  the  famous  lines 
scratched,  according  to   tradition,  bv  I-'rancis  I.  on  a 


282  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

window  of  Chambord.  Nevertheless,  my  mother  has 
often  told  me  that  her  sister-in-law  had  assured  her 
that  she  had  never  loved  any  one  so  much  as  Leclerc. 
It  is  possible.  A  witty  critic  has  maintained  that  all 
princesses  imagine  themselves  to  be  almost  demi- 
gods; in  that  case,  they  feel  authorized  to  practise 
the  religion  of  memorials  like  ordinary  mortals." 

What  is  certain  is  that  in  1803,  Pauline  Bonaparte, 
more  beautiful  than  ever,  seemed  almost  consoled. 
She  had  made  the  conquest  of  a  great  Italian  noble- 
man, Prince  Camille  Borghese,  born  in  Rome,  in 
1775,  who  asked  to  many  her.  The  First  Consul  did 
not  give  his  assent  at  once.  He  did  not  wish  by  any 
undue  haste  to  seem  to  be  over-gratified  by  an  aristo- 
cratic alliance  with  which,  in  fact,  he  was  very  well 
pleased.  At  Saint  Helena  he  said  on  the  subject  of 
this  marriage :  "  My  foreign  birth,  which  was  some- 
times brought  up  against  me  in  France,  was  of  great 
value  to  me.  One  result  was  that  all  the  Italians 
looked  on  me  as  a  fellow-countryman.  .  .  .  When  the 
question  came  up  of  the  marriage  of  my  sister  Pauline 
and  Prince  Borghese,  there  was  only  one  feeling  in 
Rome  and  in  Tuscany,  in  this  family  and  all  its 
branches.  'There  is  no  objection,'  they  all  said;  'it's 
between  ourselves  ;  they  are  one  of  our  families.'  " 

The  wedding  of  Pauline  and  Prince  Borghese  took 
place  November  6, 1803,  in  Joseph  Bonaparte's  castle 
at  Mortefontaine.  A  few  days  later  the  new  prin- 
cess and  her  husband  were  formally  presented  at 
Saint  Cloud,  and  the  ceremony  is  thus  described  by 


the  nay  cess  borghese.  283 

the  Duchess  of  Abrantes.  It  was  evening,  and  the 
wife  of  the  First  Consul  was  awaiting  the  arrival  of 
her  sister-in-law.  She,  too,  was  anxious  to  appear 
well.  Although  it  was  winter,  she  wore  a  thin  dress 
of  India  muslin.  At  the  lower  edge  there  was  a  little 
border,  as  wide  as  a  finger,  of  gold  foil.  The  waist, 
which  was  draped  in  thick  folds  in  from,  was  caught 
at  each  shoulder  by  a  lion's  head  in  black  enamel  ; 
an  embroidered  girdle  was  fastened  by  a  clasp  like 
the  lions*  heads  on  her  shoulders.  With  her  short 
sleeves,  bare  arms,  and  her  hair  enclosed  in  a  gilt 
net,  the  meshes  of  which  met  on  her  forehead,  she 
looked  like  a  beautiful  Greek  statue.  The  First 
Consul  led  her  to  the  minor  over  the  mantelpiece 
that  he  might  see  her  on  all  sides  at  once,  and,  kiss- 
ing her  shoulder,  said:  ••Ah!  Josephine,  I  shall  l>e 
jealous;  you  have  some  plan  in  your  head.  Why  are 
you  so  beautiful  to-day'/"  "I  know  that  you  like  to 
see  me  in  white,  and  so  I  put  on  a  white  dress;  that 
is  all.''  ''Well,  if  you  did  it  to  please  me,  you  have 
succeeded,"'  and  he  kissed  her  again.  Hut  the  prin- 
cess was  a  little  late,  and  Bonaparte  went  back  to 
his  study  a  little  annoyed.  Suddenly  a  carriage  was 
heard  in  the  courtyard  ;  it  was  a  magnificent  barouche, 
adorned  with  a  i-oat-of-anns,  and  it  was  drawn  by  six 
fine  horses.  The  outrider  and  the  footman  carried 
lighted  torches.  Then  the  newly  married  pair,  who 
had  come  to  make  their  wedding  call,  alighted,  and 
reached  the  door  uf  the  great  drawing-room.  An 
usher   Hung  open    the   door   and  in  a  loud   voice  an- 


J284  THE   WIFE  OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

nounced:  "Prince  and  Princess  Borghese."  The 
princess  was  in  great  splendor,  in  a  dress  of  green 
velvet  covered  with  diamonds.  On  one  side  she 
carried  a  cluster  of  precious  stones,  emeralds,  and 
pearls  of  incalculable  value,  and  on  her  head  she  wore 
a  diadem  of  emeralds  and  diamonds.  Josephine 
assumed  all  the  airs  of  a  queen,  and  let  her  sister-in- 
law  come  up  to  her  along  nearly  the  whole  length  of 
the  drawing-room.  A  few  minutes  later  Pauline  said 
to  Madame  Junot,  "My  sister-in-law  thought  she 
would  put  me  out  by  making  me  walk  through  the 
drawing-room,  but  instead  I  was  delighted."  "  "Why 
so  ?  "  "  Because  my  train  would  not  have  shown  if 
she  had  met  me  at  the  door,  where  as  it  was,  my  train 
was  very  much  admired." 

Suddenly,  however,  the  charming  princess  discov- 
ered something  which  marred  her  triumph.  She  had 
forgotten  —  and  she  could  not  forgive  herself  —  that 
the  furniture  of  the  room  was  covered  with  blue,  an 
admirable  background  for  Josephine's  white  muslin ; 
but  she  had  on  a  green  dress  which  quarrelled  fright- 
fully with  that  color.  "  Oh,  heavens ! "  she  whis- 
pered in  despair  to  Madame  Junot,  "  I  put  on  a  green 
dress  to  sit  on  a  blue  chair."  In  a  few  minutes  the 
Princess  walked  straight  to  Josephine  to  take  her 
leave,  and  the  two  sisters-in-law  parted. 

If  Pauline  Bonaparte  had  belonged  to  an  utterly 
obscure  family,  she  would  still  have  been  famous  for 
her  beauty ;  but  when  Ave  remember  that  to  the  beauty 
of  a  Venus,  worthy  to  inspire  a  genius  like  Canova, 


TUE   PRINCESS  BORGUESE. 


she  had  the  advantage  of  l>eing  Napoleon's  sister  and 
the  wile  of  one  of  the  great  Roman  nobles,  it  is  easy 
to  understand  that  hersueeess  was  without  precedent. 
Whenever  she  went  to  the  theatre,  every  opera-glass 
was  turned  towards  her.  Her  entrance  into  a  ball- 
room was  greeted  by  a  long  murmur  of  admiration. 
Her  attire  was  always  carefully  studied,  and  very 
beautiful;  her  jewelry  was  of  enormous  value.  She 
inspired  the  wildest  enthusiasm.  In  fact,  these  ex- 
ceptional women,  these  "professional  beauties,"  as  the 
English  call  them,  are  seldom  happy.  Living  always 
for  show,  they  have  no  leisure  for  domestic  jo\-  or  for 
genuine  emotion.  In  their  artificial  existence  there 
is  a  perpetual  fever,  as  if  they  were  actresses.  They 
are  admired,  to  be  sure,  but  this  admiration  arouses 
jealousy;  and  the  men  on  whom  they  do  not  smile 
become  as  hostile  as  the  women  whom  they  eclipse. 
They  are  the  prey  of  gossip  and  scandal;  their  most 
innocent  actions  are  misinterpreted.  In  spite  of  the 
incense  burned  Ik.* fore  them,  of  the  splendid  luxury 
which  surrounds  them,  as  it'  the)*  were  living  idols, 
of  their  [aide  gratified  by  a  multitude  of  woi-shippcrs, 
they  feel  that  they  live  in  an  atmosphere  of  disappro- 
bation, even  of  hate.  The  first  sign  of  age,  the  first 
wrinkle,  the  first  deception,  conies  to  them  as  a 
ealamitv.  Every  new  beauty  who  appeals  in  the 
drawing-room  seems  to  them  an  insolent  rival.  They 
wish  to  reign  without  dispute.  Any  one  who  does 
not  loudly  praise  them  they  regard  as  a  foe;  criticism 
seems   to   them   like   rebellion.      In  a   word,  tliev  seek 


286  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

amusement  so  eagerly  that  they  tire  themselves ;  and 
if  any  trace  of  moral  dignity,  of  a  moral  ideal,  is  left 
in  them,  they  are  sure  to  detect  the  bitter  dregs  in 
the  cup  from  which  they  thought  to  drink  only  nec- 
tar and  ambrosia.  In  the  early  years  of  the  century 
the  Princess  Borghese  was  a  model  of  flawless  beauty. 
Were  such  a  woman  living  now,  everything  she  did 
would  be  published  in  the  papers,  especially  in  the 
"  society  papers,"  as  they  are  called. 


VII. 


MADAME    MOREAU. 


IS  not  history  a  tragi-comecly,  in  wliich  Shakespea- 
rian contrasts  follow  one  another?  After  the 
scene  of  the  players  comes  the  scene  of  the  errave- 
diggers;  after  the  splendoi-s  of  Saint  Cloud,  the  moat 
of  Vincennes.  We  have  just  been  speaking  of  a  pretty 
woman,  a  queen  of  beauty,  of  her  jewels,  her  dresses, 
her  finery;  now  we  have  to  turn  to  the  gloomiest 
subjects,  —  plots,  treachery,  death  sentences,  and  a 
murder.  We  have  just  seen  Bonaparte  happy  and 
triumphant,  intoxicated  with  success,  living  in  the 
royal  palaces  with  all  the  splendor  of  a  new  Louis 
XJV. ;  now  we  shall  see  him  uneasy,  anxious,  fearful 
of  ambushes  at  every  turn,  and  finally  losing  his  heel 
to  the  point  of  committing  a  crime,  which  shall  haunt 
his  memory  even  at  Saint  Helena. 

••Where  is  the  woman?"  used  always  to  ask  a 
judge-  who  well  knew  human  nature.  The  woman 
in  the  case  of  Cadoudal,  Mere, in.  and  I'ieliegru  — 
one  of  the  consequences  of  which  was  the  death  ol 
the  Duke  of  Enghien  —  was  Madame  Moivau.  Had 
it   not  been   for  her  jealousy,   vanity,  and    feminine 


288  THE    WIFE  OF  THE  FIUST  CONSUL. 

spite,  her  husband,  instead  of  being  the  unrelenting 
enemy  of  Napoleon,  would  have  become  Marshal  of 
France,  duke,  prince,  like  Davoust,  like  Ney,  like 
Masse'na.  This  thought  suggested  itself  to  me  when 
I  was  looking  at  the  little  monument  raised  to  him 
near  Dresden,  on  the  spot  where  the  hero  of  Hohen- 
linden  fell  by  the  side  of  the  Emperor  of  Russia. 
The  ball,  it  will  be  remembered,  took  off  both  his  legs. 

What  was  the  origin  of  Moreau's  hatred  for  Napo- 
leon, who  had  made  him  many  advances?  It  was 
the  petty  jealousy  of  Madame  Moreau,  who  was  un- 
willing to  acknowledge  her  inferiority  to  any  woman. 
She  said  to  herself :  "  I  am  younger,  prettier,  better 
educated  than  Madame  Bonaparte.  I  was  not  mixed 
up  in  the  society  of  Tallien  and  Barras,  as  she  was.  I 
don't  mean  to  be  her  lady  of  honor,  her  servant.  Af- 
ter all,  we  are  living  in  a  republic,  and  we  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  a  sovereign.  This  parody  of  the  old 
courts  is  a  contemptible  farce.  If  Bonaparte  has 
won  victories,  my  husband  has  also  won  them,  and 
both  are  generals  of  the  Republic,  and  my  husband  is 
the  elder;  he  has  commanded  larger  armies,  and  has 
served  his  country  with  equal  glory.  I  have  a  right 
to  be  treated  with  respect ;  I  should  not  be  obliged  to 
wait  in  anterooms.  If  there  arc  people  low  enough  to 
forget  their  dignity  to  that  extent,  I  am  not  one  of 
them." 

Those  who  were  interested  in  making  a  definite 
breach  between  the  First  Consul  and  General  Moreau 
—  and  there  were  many,  in  the  Republican  as  well 


MADAME  MOHEAl'.  U.V.I 


;is  in  the  Bourlx)ii  camp  —  poured  oil  on  the  fire  to  the 
best  of  their  ability.  Those  Royalists  who  had  not 
yet  given  their  allegiance  to  the  Consular  Court  paid 
all  sorts  of  attentions  to  Madame  Moreau,  and  the 
leaders  of  the  aristocracy  made  a  point  of  frequenting 
her  house  in  the  rue  d'Anjou  Saint  Honore.  where  she 
used  to  give  large  halls.  The  First  Consul  detested 
pin-pricks  as  much  as  dagger-strokes,  and  feared  much 
more  the  opposition  of  the  drawing-rooms  than  that 
of  public  places,  because  it  is  subtler,  more  impal- 
pable than  the  other:  and  he  was  extremely  annoyed 
by  this  petty  warfare,  by  these  feminine  skirmishings, 
in  which,  with  all  his  power,  he  could  never  get  the 
upper  hand.  The  idlers,  who  always  abound  in 
I'aiis,  the  Republicans,  wroth  with  the  elevation  of 
the  Corsican  Ciesar,  the  returned  (emigres,  who  were 
enraged  at  not  once  more  getting  possession  of  their 
estates,  were  forever  talking  about  these  dissensions, 
which  set  the  two  greatest  Republican  generals  at 
loggerheads. 

Josephine,  however,  who  was  always  courteous  and 
kindlv.  tried  her  best  to  pacify  the  wife  of  the  con- 
queror of  Hohenlinden.  Madame  Moreau  had  been 
one  of  her  schoolmates  at  Madame  Campan's  at  Saint 
Germain,  where  she  had  acquired  those  accomplish- 
ments which,  in  conjunction  with  her  beauty,  had 
filled  her  with  a  pride  which  her  marriage  with 
Moreau  had  only  augmented.  Josephine  had  done 
much  to  further  this  match,  which  >\u-  regarded  as 
favorable  to  the  First  Consul's  interests. 


290  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

At  that  time  Bonaparte  and  Moreau  were  on  good 
terms.  In  the  morning  of  the  18th  Brumaire,  when 
the  First  Consul  had  gone  on  horseback  from  his 
house  in  the  rue  Chantereine  to  the  Tuileries,  Moreau 
was  one  of  the  generals  who  escorted  him.  Bonaparte 
took  a  malign  pleasure  in  compromising  him  by  bid- 
ding him  to  keep  his  eye  on  the  Directors  at  the 
Luxembourg,  thus  making  him  the  jailer  of  the  rep- 
resentatives of  legality,  while  the  coup  d'etat  was 
taking  place  in  the  orange-house  at  Saint  Cloud.  On 
his  return  from  Marengo,  the  First  Consul  had  wished 
to  make  Moreau  a  present,  and  he  had  made  for  him 
a  pair  of  valuable  pistols  on  which  were  engraved  the 
names  of  the  principal  battles  in  which  the  general 
had  distinguished  himself.  "  You  must  excuse  me," 
Bonaparte  said  when  he  gave  him  the  pistols,  "  if  they 
are  not  more  ornamented;  the  names  of  your  vic- 
tories took  all  the  place." 

Moreau  married  Mademoiselle  Hulot  the  18th  Bru- 
maire, year  IX.  (November  9, 1800),  exactly  one  year 
before  the  day  when  Bonaparte  seized  the  highest 
power.  In  ten  days  the  bridegroom  went  to  take 
command  of  the  Army  of  Germany,  and  December  3, 
1800,  lie  won  the  brilliant  victory  of  Hohenlinden. 
On  hearing  of  this  battle,  Madame  Moreau  hastened 
to  the  Tuileries  to  see  the  First  Consul  and  Madame 
Bonaparte,  but  she  called  several  times  without  get- 
ting  in.  The  last  time  she  went  she  was  accompanied 
by  her  mother,  Madame  Hulot,  a  rich  Creole  from  the 
Isle  of  France,  an  ambitious   woman,  quick  to  take 


MADAME   Mnl;i:.[l 


offence  and  .slow  to  forgive.  Mother  and  daughter 
waited  for  a  long  time,  but  in  vain.  As  thev  were 
going  away.  Madame  Hulot  was  very  angry,  and  said 
in  a  loud  voice  that  her  daughter  was  not  to  be  kept 
waiting  in  that  wav. 

Soon  after.  Madame  Moreau  joined  her  husband  in 
Germany,  and  her  pride  increased  when  she  saw  for 
herself  what  fame  and  glory  surrounded  him.  Madame 
Hulot,  who  had  stayed  in  France,  went  one  day  to 
Malmaison  to  solicit  the  promotion  of  her  eldest  son.  a 
naval  officer;  Josephine  received  her  very  kindly  and 
asked  her  to  stay  to  dinner,  without  saying  anything 
about  it  to  her  husband.  At  table  Bonaparte  was 
visibly  annoyed;  he  hardly  spoke  to  her.  and  after 
dinner  he  turned  his  back  upon  her.  Josephine  did 
her  best  to  atone  for  his  impoliteness,  saying  that  he 
was  much  preoccupied  aI"l  anxious  alxmt  some 
despatches   that   had  not  arrived. 

The  Duchess  of  Abiantes  narrates  a  talk  she  had 
with  tin:  First  Consul  a  few  days  after  Madame  Iln- 
lot's  visit  to  Malmaison.  "Do  von  know  Madame 
Moreau?"  "I  used  to  see  her  in  society  when  we 
were  voting."  "Isn't  she  very  clever  in  a  great 
manvwavs?"  ••  Yes  ;  I  know  that  she  dames  very 
well.  Steilbelt,  who  is  niy  dancing-master  a-  well  as 
hers,  savs  that  next  to  Madame  Delanie-I'eanmarchais, 
Mademoiselle  Ilnlot  was  the  Ih-sI  pupil  he  had;  she 
paints  miniatures;  she  knows  a  good  many  languages, 
and  then  she  is  very  pretty."  "Oh  !  I  can  judge  that 
as  well  as  anv  one,  and  I  don't   think  so.     She  has  a 


292  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 


face  like  a  nut-cracker,  a  bad  expression,  and  a  very 
unattractive  appearance."  Then  Josephine  broke  in, 
"  You  don't  like  her,  and  are  unfair  to  her."  Bona- 
parte answered,  "  It  is  true,  I  don't  like  her ;  and  for 
a  very  simple  reason,  —  she  hates  me.  She  and  her 
mother  are  the  evil  geniuses  of  Moreau.  Whom  do 
you  think  Josephine  had  to  dinner  the  other  day? 
Madame  Hulot  —  Madame  Ilulot  at  Malmaison  !  " 
"  But,"  resumed  Madame  Bonaparte,  "  she  came  to 
make  peace."  "To  make  peace  —  Madame  Hulot! 
My  poor  Josephine,  you  are  very  credulous,  very 
simple  ! " 

It  must  be  acknowledged  that,  with  all  his  genius, 
Napoleon  lacked  the  equability  and  self-possession 
which  are  necessary  in  a  drawing-room.  He  could  not 
hide  his  antipathies,  and  he  was  subject  to  freaks,  to 
outbreaks  of  roughness  and  impatience  which  were 
the  despair  of  the  people  of  the  old  regime  like  Talley- 
rand. Josephine,  on  the  other  hand,  knew  how  to 
control  herself,  and  could  smile  when  her  heart  was 
heavy.  Being  courteous  from  principle  as  well  as  by 
nature,  she  never  offended  any  one,  and  as  a  well-bred 
woman  she  received  with  charming  grace  even  those 
of  whom  she  had  good  cause  to  complain.  Having 
lived  successively  in  Royalist,  Republican,  and  Con- 
sular drawing-rooms,  she  was  very  familiar  with 
Parisian  society,  and  by  her  tact  and  affability  knew 
how  to  reconcile  the  most  hostile  elements.  Had  it 
been  left  to  her,  she  would  have  smoothed  all  the  dis- 
sensions that  arose  between  her  husband  and  Moreau. 


MADAME    yiOUKAl".  293 

But  Bonaparte  listened  only  to  his  wrath.  He  had, 
it  must  be  said,  horror  of  any  rivalry  ;  lie  would  gladlv 
have  loaded  Moreau  with  benefits,  with  honors,  with 
money,  but  on  one  condition,  —  that  no  one  should  pre- 
sume to  compare  the  hero  of  Hohenlinden  with  the 
hero  of  Marengo.  There  seemed  as  great  a  difference 
between  him  and  Moreau  as  between  Louis  XIV.  and 
Conde  ;  and  if  he  had  been  in  the  place  of  Louis  XIV., 
he  would  not  have  liked  to  hear  much  said  about  the 
battle  of  Rocroy.  Being  younger  than  his  principal 
lieutenants,  and  having  attained  a  wonderful  position 
with  astonishing  rapidity,  lie  fancied  that  the  slightest 
familiarity  would  mar  his  reputation,  and  he  tried  to 
draw  a  rigid  line  between  himself  and  his  generals. 
He  demanded  as  much,  in  matters  of  etiquette,  for  his 
wife,  and  compelled  her,  notwithstanding  the  marked 
modesty  which  always  distinguished  her,  to  assume 
the  manners  and  tone  of  a  queen.  This  greatly  an- 
noyed Madame  Moreau,  who  said  it  was  scarcely 
worth  while  to  have  overthrown  the  old  dynasty,  if 
now  thev  had  to  endure  another. 

To  these  feminine  grievances  were  added  the  seri- 
ous regret  of  .1  certain  number  of  generals  and  officers 
who  continued  to  l>e  austere  Republicans,  the  volun- 
teers of  the  early  years  of  the  Republic,  who  had 
suffered  in  the  cause  of  liberty  and  national  inde- 
pendence, for  which  they  had  sacrificed  themselves 
with  a  devotion  void  of  all  pergonal  ambition.  (Jen- 
em]  de  Segur  has  drawn  the  portrait  of  these  "Spar- 
tans of  the  Rhine,"  as  they  were  then  called.       sturdy 


294  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIBST  CONSUL. 

ancients,  who  preserved  great  simplicity  in  dress  and 
manner,  and  manifested  a  haughty  and  disdainful 
surprise  at  the  sight  of  the  reviving  luxury  and  of 
the  ambitious  passions  which  took  the  place  of  the 
simple,  disinterested  devotion  of  the  early  Republi- 
can enthusiasm. 

When  Moreau  returned  to  France  without  any 
command,  lie  fell  under  the  influence  of  unoccupied 
and  discontented  companions.  There  had  long  been 
a  latent  rivalry  between  the  officers  of  the  Army  of 
Italy  and  those  of  the  Army  of  the  Rhine.  The  last- 
named  gave  expression  to  their  ill-humor  with  all  a 
soldier's  frankness.  One  of  them,  General  Domon, 
who  had  a  very  caustic  tongue,  happened  to  be  one 
evening  at  a  restaurant.  He  asked  what  they  had 
ready.  "  Chicken  d  la  Marengo,"  answered  the  waiter. 
"  What  do  I  care  for  chicken  d  la  Marengo  ?  "  shouted 
Domon.     "  What  I  want  is  beef  d  la  Hohenlinden." 

We  who  live  in  a  period  of  comparative  tranquillity 
cannot  easily  form  an  idea  of  the  French  officers  at 
the  beginning  of  the  century.  Caring  for  nothing 
but  duels  and  battles,  they  were  comjiletely  out  of 
their  element  in  time  of  peace.  The  more  rigid  their 
discipline  in  the  ranks,  the  freer  and  more  unbridled 
their  talk  when  their  service  was  over.  The  officers' 
coffee-houses  were  like  the  old  clubs,  and  they  them- 
selves talked  like  the  old  tribunes.  It  was  not  easy 
to  control  these  men,  thirsting  for  adventure,  eager 
for  action,  for  emotion,  and  peril.  Civilian  dress  did 
not  become  them,  and  they  seemed  awkward  when 


MADAME   MOREAl'.  2!'."> 


holding  a  little  switch  instead  of  a  sabre.  Averse  to 
seeking  in  study  and  intellectual  work  an  outlet 
for  their  activity,  they  crowded  the  coffee-houses, 
theatres,  the  galleries  and  restaurants  of  the  Palais 
Royal,  scorning  everything  which  was  not  military, 
saying  that  the  Consul  would  amount  to  nothing 
without  the  army,  and  vet  opposing  the  growth  of 
his  power,  when  all  the  rest  of  the  country  was  Low- 
ing before  it  respectfully.  They  looked  on  Moreau 
and  Bernadotte  as  the  last  of  the  Romans. 

The  future  King  of  Sweden  and  Norway,  who  at 
his  coronation  insisted  on  being  anointed  on  his 
forehead,  his  temples,  his  chest,  and  his  wrist  by  the 
Archbishop  of  Upsala,  while  he  held  a  golden  horn 
full  of  consecrated  oil,  was  never  tired  of  laughing 
at  the  Concordat  and  at  Bonaparte's  Catholicism. 
The  future  Charles  XIV.,  who  on  the  same  occasion 
rode  out  in  triumph  on  horseback,  wearing  a  Spanish 
coat  of  silver  cloth  embroidered  with  diamonds,  and 
a  plumed  hat  like  that  of  Henry  IV..  now  affected  in 
his  dress  and  bearing  a  thoroughly  Republican  sim- 
plicity. Who  could  have  foreseen  that  the  time 
would  come  when  he  should  walk  beneath  a  canopy, 
while  four  chamberlains  of  the  highest  nobility  should 
carry  the  train  of  his  royal  mantle? 

Bernadotte  had  married  Mademoiselle  De'siree 
Clary,  a  young  woman  whom  Napoleon  had  been 
anxious  to  marry  at  the  beginning  of  his  career.  Sin- 
was  the  sister  of  Madame  Joseph  Bonaparte.  In  1$03 
he  spent  his  time  in  quarrelling  with  the  First  Consul, 


296  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIBST  CONSUL. 

and  then  in  seeking  to  make  peace.  He  had  given 
up  the  command  of  the  Army  of  the  West,  and  was 
in  Paris  in  disgrace.  But  the  First  Consul  stood 
godfather  for  his  son,  who  was  named  Oscar,  under 
the  influence  of  Ossian,  at  that  time  a  much-admired 
poet.  Me*neval  says :  "  Bernadotte,  who  was  so  obse- 
quious before  Napoleon,  Avas  forever  conspiring  against 
him ;  and  then  he  resorted  to  everything  to  win  for- 
giveness. Joseph  Bonaparte  and  his  wife  displayed 
as  much  energy  in  securing  his  pardon  as  Bernadotte 
did  in  his  alternations  of  offence  and  submission." 

As  for  Moreau,  he  systematically  rejected  the  First 
Consul's  advances.  He  made  a  great  show  of  never 
appearing  except  in  plain  clothes,  even  at  a  meeting 
of  officers ;  an  excess  of  apparent  modesty,  which  we 
may  well  regard  as  an  excess  of  pride.  Rulers  may 
always  mistrust  those  generals  who  do  not  wish  to 
Avear  their  uniform. 

One  day  Moreau  refused  an  invitation  to  a  formal 
dinner  at  the  Tuileries,  saying  he  preferred  to  dine 
with  only  a  few  friends.  On  another  occasion  he 
refused  to  accompany  the  First  Consul  to  a  review. 
When  he  was  invited  with  the  other  generals  to  hear 
the  Te  Deum  for  the  Concordat  at  Notre  Dame,  and 
to  the  banquet  at  the  Tuileries,  he  did  n<Jt  go  to  the 
Te  Deum,  and  that  evening  he  ridiculed  it  in  the 
presence  of  the  Minister  of  War,  with  some  other 
generals  who  were  dining  with  him.  Once  again, 
there  was  a  great  supper  at  the  palace,  and  Moreau 
was    absent.      When    somebody  expressed   surprise, 


MA  I)  A  Mi:    MO  UK  A  f 


2!»T 


Bonaparte  said  thai  since  his  invitations  h;i<]  lx-en 
twice  declined,  he  did  not  care  to  have  that  happen 
again:  and  Moreau  was  never  again  inviteil.  His 
coolness  soon  became  open  hostilitv.  He  made,  in 
winter,  his  mansion  in  the  rue  d'Anjou,  and  in  sum- 
mer his  country -place,  (Irosbois,  a  centre  of  oppo- 
sition. There  the  First  Consul  was  treated  as  a 
usurper  with  more  luck  than  abilitv,  as  a  traitor  to 
the  Repuhlic,  and  his  plan  of  invading  England  was 
called  a  wild  dream.  When  Bonaparte  received  the 
report  of  this  talk  from  the  police,  he  was  furiouslv 
angry.  ••  Moreau,"  we  read,  in  his  ••  Memorial  of  Saint 
Helena."  "was  ruled  entirely  by  his  wife,  which  is 
always  a  misfortune,  said  the  Emperor,  because  a  man 
is,  in  that  case,  neither  himself  nor  his  wife;  in  fact, 
he  is  nothing  at  all.  Moreau  was  sometimes  friendly, 
sometimes  hostile  to  the  first  Consul,  sometimes 
obsequious,  sometimes  bitter.  The  First  Consul, 
who  would  gladly  have  made  a  friend  of  him,  found 
himself  obliged  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  him. 
Moreau.  he  said,  will  end  by  breaking  his  head 
against  the  columns  of  the  palace,  lie  was  driven  to 
that  bv  the  absurd  inc.  insistencies  and  pretensions  oi 
his  wife  and  his  mother-in-law,  who  even  went  so  far 
as  to  wish  to  take  precedence  of  the  wife  of  the  First 
Consul.  Once,  said  Napoleon,  the  Minister  of  For- 
eign Affairs  had  to  use  force  to  prevent  this  at  a 
grand  b.nnpiet. 

MoieauV  portion  in  \si\:\  bnre  some  likeness  to  that 
nf    (ieiieial    Changaruier    before    the    •■■>tn>    .1  >'t<ti    oj 


298  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

December  2.  He  was  surrounded  by  both  Republi- 
cans and  Royalists,  and  all  the  malcontents  nocked 
to  him.  The  Bourbons,  who  were  as  credulous  as 
exiles  always  are,  thought  they  had  found  in  him  a 
restorer  of  royalty,  while,  in  fact,  Moreau,  who  im- 
agined that  he  had  a  party  in  the  Senate  and  in  the 
army,  was  working  only  for  himself,  and  in  spite  of 
all  the  illusions  of  the  Royalists,  he  looked  upon  the 
part  of  a  Monk  as  something  below  him.  The  officers 
who  were  devoted  to  him  had  no  share  in  the  ideas 
and  interests  of  the  emigre's.  General  de  Se*gur,  who 
was  a  grandson  of  a  Marshal  of  France,  the  Minister 
of  War  under  Louis  XVI.,  who  had  felt  a  momentary 
admiration  for  Moreau,  left  him,  because  he  found  him 
unjust  to  the  point  of  insolence  for  the  men  and  things 
of  the  old  regime.  "  It  was  Moreau's  rudeness,"  he 
said,  "  which  first  opened  my  eyes  to  the  mistake  I 
had  made.  One  morning  I  had  been  to  the  rue  d'An- 
jou  Saint  Honore",  and  Grenier  or  Lecourbe  and  he 
began  to  talk  in  my  presence  about  the  French  army 
at  the  time  of  Louis  XV.  I  listened  to  his  remarks  as 
if  they  were  oracles,  although  in  fact  they  were  not 
at  all  remarkable,  —  for  his  way  of  speaking  and  his 
manners  were  noticeably  common,  —  when  forgetting 
or  not  knowing  my  relationship,  lie  spoke  of  all  the 
generals  of  the  old  regime,  without  exception,  in  the 
vilest  and  most  insulting  language.  This  brought  all 
my  blood  to  my  face,  and  wounded  by  this  attack  on 
my  grandfather,  a  brave  man,  maimed  in  his  coun- 
try's service,  for  whom  I  was  then  in  mourning,  I  left 


MADAME  MOREAU.  290 


at  once.     My  finger  was  not  less  keen  Iwcause  I  was 
unable  to  make  any  reply  to  this  insolent  brutality." 

The  Royalists  were  not  so  particular;  they  imag- 
ined that  Moreau  was  their  man.  and  nothing  could 
remove  this  idea  from  their  heads.  Hut  vague  rumors 
began  to  get  into  circulation.  The  First  Consul's 
friends  said  that  his  life  was  seriously  threatened, 
and  at  Saint  Cloud  and  the  Tuileries  precautions 
were  taken  which  were  turned  to  ridicule  by  Moreau's 
friends.  In  certain  sets  it  was  the  fashion  to  say  that 
the  alleged  plots  were  an  innovation  of  the  police ; 
but  the  Chouans  knew  better.  As  to  the  general 
public,  it  awaited  events.  In  the  night  of  February 
14,  1S<»4.  a  Council  of  Ministers  was  held  at  the 
Tuileries.  ••  I  have  been  the  kindest  of  men,"  said 
Bonaparte,  "but  I  shall  be  the  most  terrible  when  it 
is  necessarv,  and  I  shall  crush  Moreau,  as  I  should 
the  next  man,  for  entering  into  plots  odious  in  their 
aim,  and  disgraceful  for  the  affiliations  which  they 
implv."  The  next  morning  a  picked  force  was  sent 
to  the  rue  d'Anjou  Saint  Honore*.  to  arrest  Moreau 
at  his  home.  The  gendarmes,  failing  to  find  him 
there,  stalled  to  seek  liim  at  his  country-place,  and 
met  him  on  the  bridge  of  Charenton  returning  to 
Paris.  He  was  arrested  and  conveyed  to  the  Temple, 
where  the  famous  general  of  the  Republican  army 
must  have  remembered  another  captive,  King  Louis 
XVI. 


vm. 


THE  CONSPIRACY. 


MOREAU  was  arrested,  and  every  one  was  ask- 
ing the  cause  of  this  unexpected  event.  The 
provinces  were  comparatively  indifferent,  but  at  Paris 
there  was  much  excitement  in  the  drawing-rooms,  the 
cafe's,  and  in  the  reunions  of  the  officers  who  had  be- 
longed to  the  Army  of  the  Rhine.  Every  one  was 
wondering  what  was  the  explanation  of  the  mystery. 
The  First  Consul  said  to  Madame  de  Re*musat:  "I 
have  just  ordered  Moreau's  arrest.  Ah !  you  are  sur- 
prised; that  will  make  some  talk,  don't  you  think? 
People  will  say  that  I  am  jealous  of  Moreau,  and  that 
this  is  a  bit  of  revenge,  and  a  thousand  platitudes  of 
that  sort.  T  jealous  of  Moreau !  Why,  he  owes  the 
greater  part  of  his  glory  to  me ;  I  let  him  have  a  fine 
army,  and  kept  nothing  but  recruits  in  Italy;  I  asked 
nothing  better  than  to  live  on  good  terms  with  him. 
I  certainly  was  not  afraid  of  Moreau ;  for  I  am  not 
afraid  of  any  one,  and  least  of  all,  of  Moreau.  Twenty 
times  at  least  I  have  saved  him  from  compromising 
himself ;  I  told  him  that  they  would  make  trouble 
between  us,  and  he  knew  it  as  well  as  I  did.     But  he 

300 


the  coy  spin  act.  301 


is  weak  and  proud,  the  women  controlled  him,  and 
the  political  parties  made;  him  their  tool."  After 
speaking  thus,  Bonaparte  went  up  to  Josephine,  took 
her  by  the  chin,  lifting'  her  head,  and  said:  uNot 
every  man  has  a  good  wife  as  T  have.  You  are  cry* 
ing,  Josephine;  why?  are  you  afraid?''  " No,"  she 
answered,  "but  I  don't  like  to  think  of  what  will  be 
said."  "But  what  can  you  do?  I  am  not  moved 
by  hate  or  any  desire  of  revenge;  T  have  thought  a 
long  time  before  having  Moreau  arrested.  T  might 
have  kept  my  eyes  shut  and  have'  given  him  a  chance 
to  run  away,  but  then  it  would  have  been  said  that  I 
did  not  dare  to  bring  him  to  trial.  I  have  the  means 
of  convicting  him;  he  is  guilty;  I  am  the  govern- 
ment ;  all  this  will  go  off  very  simply." 

The  First  Consul's  friends  maintained  that  if 
Moreau  was  arrested,  it  was  because  lie  was  guilty, 
and  they  defended  Bonaparte  against  every  charge 
of  jealousy  or  injustice.  But  the  opposition  asserted 
that  the  conspiracy  was  an  idle  story,  an  invention  of 
the  police,  and  that  it  should  not  be  called  Moreau's 
conspiracy,  but  the  conspiracy  against  Moreau.  The 
prisoner's  wife  put  on  an  air  of  majestic  grief  which 
added  to  the  impression  already  produced  by  her 
husband's  arrest  and  incarceration.  It  was  scarcely 
three  months  since  the  affair  of  the  infernal  machine; 
and  since  men's  memories  are  short  in  Paris,  a  number 
of  people  held  that  an  attempt  to  assassinate  the  First 
Consul  was  an  impossibility.  It  was  everywhere  said 
that  it  was  abominable  to  suppose  that  the  hero  of 


302  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

Hohenlinden  could  be  a  criminal.  It  was,  to  be  sure, 
whispered  that  Pichegru  and  Georges  Cadoudal  were 
in  Paris,  hiding  in  some  mysterious,  impenetrable 
corner;  but  then  it  was  added  that  this  was  a  mere 
fancy  of  the  police,  that  the  alleged  conspirators  were 
not  in  Paris,  and  they  defied  the  government  to  find 
them. 

Yet  there  was  great  anxiety  among  those  about 
Bonaparte,  and  ever  since  the  autumn  the  men  who 
had  charge  of  his  safety  were  in  continual  expecta- 
tion of  a  catastrophe.  There  were  sudden  alarms 
first  at  Saint  Cloud,  and  afterwards  at  the  Tuileries. 
Se*gur,  who  had  charge  of  the  guard  of  the  First  Con- 
sul, gave  the  watchwords  and  countersigns,  and  took 
the  most  minute  precautions  in  concert  with  his  band 
of  picked  men.  Every  day  a  new  attempt  was  feared; 
at  one  time  it  was  a  projected  ambush  near  Malmaison 
from  which  an  attack  was  to  be  made  on  the  First 
Consul's  carriage ;  at  another,  it  was  a  mine  dug 
beneath  the  road  through  which  he  would  have  to  pass, 
and  where  he  would  be  stopped  by  a  block  of  vehicles ; 
once,  at  Saint  Cloud,  the  guards  found  a  man  leaning 
against  a  statue  very  near  the  door  of  Napoleon's 
study,  which  opened  on  the  terrace  of  the  orange- 
house  ;  and  once,  too,  an  officer,  who  was  more  anx- 
ious than  usual,  said  to  Se*gur:  "Didn't  you  see  from 
the  window  where  I  always  stand  a  stout,  short  man, 
with  thick  eyebrows,  a  fierce  expression,  whose  head 
seemed  sunk  in  his  shoulders?"     That  tallied  with 


THE  CONSPIRACY.  303 

the  description  of  the  invisible  and  terrible  Chouan, 
Georges  Cadoudal. 

Early  in  February,  1804,  at  the  Tuileries,  Se"gur, 
who  was  on  duty,  had  fallen  asleep  on  his  camp-bed 
one  night  at  about  one  o'clock,  when  he  felt  some 
one  shaking  him  very  hard.  He  sprang  up,  and  saw 
that  it  was  Caulaincourt,  who  said,  "(let  up!  You 
must  change  the  watchword  at  once,  and  do  every- 
thing as  if  we  were  in  the  presence  of  the  enemy. 
You  understand  me ;  there's  not  a  moment  to  lose." 
Se*gur  immediately  organized  the  rounds  and  the 
patrols  in  the  palace,  the  garden,  and  all  about,  in 
such  a  way  that  every  sentinel  was  obliged  to  chal- 
lenge at  least  three  times  a  minute.  This  system 
continued  many  weeks,  until  the  crisis  had  passed. 

Moreau  was  arrested  February  15,  and  Pichegru 
on  the  28th  of  the  same  month,  but  Georges  Cadoudal, 
the  head  of  the  conspiracy,  still  eluded  capture.  The 
First  Consul  was  very  angry,  and  insisted  that  the 
police  must  lay  hands  on  this  man,  who  had  long 
been  laughing  at  them,  for  his  arrest  was  absolutely 
necessary  for  the  preliminary  trial.  To  this  end  the 
most  vigorous  measures  were  taken.  Paris  was  kept 
under  close  inspection.  Entrance  was  permitted,  but 
no  one  was  allowed  to  leave.  Any  one  trying  to 
break  this  order  was  liable  to  be  shot  down  like  a  dog. 
The  garrison  was  put  on  a  war  footing;  the  Seine 
was  covered  with  barges  full  of  gendarmes;  all  the 
gates  were  kept  closed;  night  and  day  Paris  was  sur- 
rounded by  posts,  bivouacs,  and  sentinels;  orders  were 


304  THE    WIFE   OF   THE  FIU ST  CONSUL. 

given  to  fire  on  any  one  appearing  outside  of  the 
walls.  Jury  trial  was  suspended;  the  concealment 
of  the  conspirators  was  declared  high  treason,  and  it 
was  ordered  that  the  concealment  of  any  information 
about  them  should  be  punished  by  six  years'  impris- 
onment. It  was  like  a  return  to  the  days  of  the 
Terror.  The  First  Consul  pursued  the  conspirators 
as  a  hunter  pursues  his  prey,  for  it  was  with  him  a 
matter  of  honor  as  well  as  a  means  of  protecting  his 
life.  If  Cadoudal  eluded  arrest,  the  plot  could  not 
be  proved,  and  the  government  would  be  left  in  a 
detested  and  ridiculous  position.  At  last,  on  the  9th 
of  March,  the  terrible  Chouan  was  hunted  down.  At 
about  seven  in  the  evening,  when  he  was  escaping  in 
a  cab,  he  was  pursued  and  caught  in  the  Carrefour 
de  Bucy.  lie  blew  out  the  brains  of  one  of  the  men 
who  were  running  to  stop  the  cab-horse,  but  the  crowd 
surrounded  him;  resistance  would  have  been  useless; 
he  was  captured. 

Then  the  public  began  to  believe  in  the  reality  of 
the  conspiracy.  It  was  not  a  Republican  plot,  but, 
like  the  incident  of  the  infernal  machine,  a  Royalist 
plot,  in  which  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  the 
Bourbon  princes  had  taken  part.  The  ringleader  was 
Georges  Cadoudal,  who  was  born  January  1,  1771, 
at  Kerle*ano,  near  Auray;  he  was  the  son  of  a  laboring 
man,  and  had  been  the  leader  of  the  Breton  Chouans. 
After  he  had  been  compelled  to  accept  the  peace  nego- 
tiated by  General  Brune,  January  2,  1800,  he  had 
betaken  himself  to  Paris,  where  lie  had  had  a  secret 


THE   CONSPIRACY.  30;") 

interview  with  the  First  Consul.  Bonaparte,  who 
knew  men  well,  and  had  at  a  glance  discovered  the 
Breton  leader's  sturdy  character,  made  every  effort 
to  win  him  over  to  his  side.  In  a  conversation  that 
lasted  nearly  two  hours  he  did  his  hest  to  persuade 
him  to  choose  between  a  position  as  general  in  com- 
mand of  a  division  of  the  Army  of  Italy  and  an  annual 
pension  of  one  hundred  thousand  francs,  on  the  sole 
condition  that  lie  should  abstain  from  politics;  but 
Cadoudal  was  inflexible. 

Bourrienne  has  given  an  account  of  this  mysterious 
interview  which  took  place  at  the  Tuileries.  Kapp 
introduced  the  famous  Chouan  into  a  drawing-room 
overlooking  the  garden.  The  doors  were  left  open, 
and  Bourrienne  and  Rapp,  who  were  in  the  adjoining 
anteroom,  saw  the  First  Consul  and  Georges  Cadoudal 
walking  up  and  down  the  whole  length  of  the  room 
for  a  long  time  in  animated  conversation.  At  times 
their  words  and  gestures  became  excited.  "  You  don't 
look  at  tilings  in  the  right  way."  said  Bonaparte,  "and 
von  make  a  (Teat  mistake  in  not  coming  to  any  acrree- 
ment.  But  if  you  insist  on  going  back  to  your  own 
country,  you  shall  leave  Paris  as  freely  as  you  entered 
it."  When  the  talk  was  over,  and  nothing  had  come 
of  it,  the  First  Consul  said  to  Kapp,  "Tell  me  why 
you  left  the  doors  open  and  stayed  there  with  Bour- 
rienne." "If  you  had  closed  the  door."  answered 
Kapp,  "  I  should  have  opened  it  again."  Bonaparte, 
who  took  a  very  low  view  of  human  nature,  but  had 
a    high     feeling   about    matters   of   honor,   said.    "  Foi 


306  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

shame,  Rapp;  you  would  have  done  nothing  of  the 
sort !  Cadoudal,"  he  went  on,  "  takes  a  faulty  view 
of  things,  but  the  exaggeration  of  his  principles  is 
due  to  very  noble  feelings,  which  must  give  him  a 
great  deal  of  influence.  We  must  put  a  stop  to  it, 
however." 

After  this  interview,  the  Breton  chief  felt  insecure 
in  Paris  and  went  to  England,  where  he  was  warmly 
greeted  by  the  English  government,  and  he  received 
from  Louis  XVIII.,  through  the  Count  of  Artois,  the 
position  of  lieutenant-general,  the  grand  ribbon  of 
Saint  Louis,  and  a  congratulatory  letter  on  his  con- 
duct. The  treaty  of  Amiens  put  a  stop  to  the  plot- 
ting, but  it  began  anew  at  the  outbreak  of  hostilities. 
There  was  no  limit  to  English  perfidy ;  their  minister 
at  Munich  set  in  motion  a  far-reaching  conspiracy. 
He  communicated  to  his  agents  in  France  a  way  to 
win  over  the  guards  of  arsenals  and  powder-magazines, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  burn  them  or  blow  them  up  when- 
ever necessary.  Lord  Hawkesbury,  in  the  face  of  all 
Europe,  loudly  proclaimed  this  doctrine,  that  "  every 
wise  government  owes  it  to  itself  to  take  every  possi- 
ble advantage  from  any  dissatisfaction  that  may  exist 
in  a  country  with  which  it  is  at  war,  and  consequently 
it  should  lend  aid  and  encouragement  to  the  plans  of 
the  malcontents."  Georges  Cadoudal  organized  his 
conspiracy  with  the  aid  of  English  money.  He  re- 
solved to  go  secretly  to  Paris,  where  Pichegru  should 
join  him,  and  there  to  enter  into  communication  with 
Moreau,  on  whom  lie  thought  he  could  count,  and  to 


THE  CONSPIRACY 


set  on  foot  a  criminal  attack  on  the  First  Consul. 
With  him  out  of  the  way,  Moreau  and  Pichegru 
would  take  control  of  the  army,  and  Louis  XVIII. 
would  be  called  to  the  throne.  Since  he  intended  to 
take  a  band  of  conspirators  with  which  to  attaek  Bon- 
aparte surrounded  by  his  escort,  he  said  to  himself,  in 
palliation  of  the  murder,  that  it  would  not  be  an 
assassination,  but  a  fair  fight :  singular  casuistry, 
which  shows  how  blinding  are  political  passions  ! 

Near  Dieppe,  towards  Biville,  there  is  a  cliff  more 
than  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high,  and  there  it 
was,  less  than  a  hundred  paces  from  a  signal-tower 
occupied  by  a  lookout,  which,  however,  left  it  at 
night,  that  Cadoudal  mysteriously  returned  to  France, 
August  22,  1803.  A  rope  as  thick  as  a  merchant- 
vessel's  cable  was  let  down  the  cliff;  it  was  made 
fast  to  a  series  of  stakes  set  deep  in  the  earth  every 
six  feet.  It  was  in  nightly  use  by  smugglers,  —  the 
last  to  ascend  coiling  the  rope  and  fastening  it  to  a 
post  in  order  to  hide  it  from  the  patrol  below;  and 
by  this  perilous  climb  Cadoudal,  and  a  few  weeks 
later,  Riviere,  Polignac,  General  Pichegru,  and  many 
other  conspirators  were  able  to  enter  the  country. 
Hiding  by  day  and  advancing  by  night  they  suc- 
ceeded in  reaching  Paris  in  disguise,  and  there  for  a 
long  time  they  eluded  the  poliee.  Pichegru,  who 
had  landed  at  the  cliff  of  Biville  January  It"),  1804, 
was  in  Paris  four  days  later.  lie  had  an  interview 
with  Moreau  one  dark  night  on  the  boulevard  de 
la  Madeleine.     The  two  generals  had  not  met  since 


80S  TITE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

the  time  when  they  had  fought  together  so  gloriously 
on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine.  They  were  joined  by 
Cadoudal,  to  Moreau's  great  surprise  and  evident 
annoyance,  for  he  was  anxious  to  work  for  himself 
rather  than  for  the  Chouans.  "  This  is  a  bad  begin- 
ning," the  Breton  leader  said  to  himself ;  and  a  few 
days  later,  when  he  saw  that  the  intriguers  had  mis- 
led him  with  regard  to  Moreau's  real  intentions,  he 
said,  "Usurper  for  usurper;  I  prefer  the  one  who 
now  governs  to  this  Moreau  who  has  no  head  and  no 
heart."  Pichegru  did  not  deceive  himself  about  his 
old  comrade ;  he  said,  with  some  bitterness,  "  He,  too, 
is  ambitious  and  wants  to  govern  France ;  but,  poor 
fellow,  he  couldn't  govern  it  twenty-four  hours." 
Meanwhile,  the  Count  of  Artois,  who  was  misled  by 
false  reports,  exclaimed  with  joy,  "  Since  our  two 
generals  agree,  I  shall  soon  be  back  in  France." 
The  conqueror  of  Holland  was  given  up  by  a  treach- 
erous friend.  "  Pichegru,"  said  Napoleon,  "  was  a 
victim  of  the  most  infamous  treachery.  It  was  a 
disgrace  to  humanity ;  his  intimate  friend  sold  him ; 
this  man,  whom  I  will  not  mention  by  name,  so 
odious  and  disgusting  was  his  action,  an  old  officer, 
since  then  in  business  at  Lyons,  came  with  an  offer 
to  give  him  up  for  a  hundred  thousand  crowns." 

All  this  is  like  a  novel,  or  a  melodrama,  with  this 
curious  setting  and  series  of  adventures,  with  the 
mysterious,  invisible  men  who  defy  the  police ;  with 
the  Biville  eliffs  at  which  English  boats  secretly 
touch  in  the  darkness ;  the  hiding  in  the  woods,  and 


THE   COyxPIItACY.  309 

in  the  very  heart  of  Paris;  the  bold  Breton  who 
plays  fearlessly  with  danger  and  death;  the  hero  of 
I Iohenlinden  arrested  like  a  common  criminal;  the 
conqueror  of  Holland  banished  and  tracked  like  a 
wild  beast !  All  these  strange,  unexpected  incidents 
were  very  impressive,  and  threw  a  gloom  over  our 
giddy  Paris.  There  spread  vague  rumors  of  the 
speedy  arrival  on  French  territory  of  a  prince  of  the 
house  of  Bourbon.  Was  it  the  Count  of  Artois,  the 
Duke  of  Berry,  the  Duke  of  Angouleme,  the  Duke  of 
Enghien?  Were  the  Vendeans  going  to  renew  the 
fight?  Did  the  English  mean  tit  land  troops,  arms, 
and  supplies  on  the  coast?  Was  the  First  Consul  to 
be  assassinated?  And  was  he  to  be  killed  with  a 
dagger,  or  by  a  new  infernal  machine?  And  what 
would  happen  then?  Would  the  Republic  or  a  mon- 
archy be  established?  All  the  questions  were  an- 
swered by  each  party  according  to  its  wishes. 

Meanwhile  Bonaparte  was  uneasy,  nervous,  agi- 
tated ;  and  he  watched  at  the  same  time  Paris,  the 
provinces,  and  foreign  countries,  observing  the  Ven- 
deans, England,  and  the  Rhine  ready  to  ward  the 
blow,  from  whatever  quarter  it  might  come,  lie  was 
in  a  state  of  extreme  tension:  and  he  employed  all 
his  resources  as  a  tactician,  all  his  activity  as  general, 
as  if  he  were  <>n  the  field  of  battle,  lie  commanded 
the  agents  oi  the  secret  police  as  if  they  were  soldiers, 
stimulating  the  activity  of  the  picked  force  who  all 
had  the  most  ardent  devotion  to  his  person.  The 
instinct  of  self-preservation   put  him   in  the  state  of 


310  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

legitimate  defence.  It  is  easy  to  understand  the 
wrath  that  filled  him,  believing  what  he  had  so  often 
been  told,  that  he  was  the  regenerator,  the  saviour  of 
France,  the  Messiah  of  the  nineteenth  century,  when 
he  thought  that  a  miserable  band  of  assassins  might 
perhaps  destroy  him  and  his  vast  work.  Naturally 
he  was  indignant  with  the  perfidy  of  England  in 
hiring  murderers  and  putting  weapons  in  their  hands  ; 
and  with  the  ungrateful  Emigre's,  of  whom  he  asked 
nothing  more  than  they  should  return  to  their  estates 
and  their  country,  while  they  expressed  their  grati- 
tude by  these  abominable  plots.  It  is  easy  to  under- 
stand what  must  have  filled  the  soul  of  a  man  so 
violent  and  impetuous,  who  was  accustomed  to  tri- 
umph over  every  obstacle. 

Nor  is  it  difficult  to  picture  Josephine's  distress 
when  she  saw  her  husband  and  herself  so  beset  with 
perils.  But  with  her  experience  of  danger,  she  kept 
up  a  good  heart.  In  the  Reign  of  Terror,  on  the 
evening  of  the  infernal  machine,  she  had  seen  death 
near  her  without  a  tremor.  With  all  her  anxiety, 
she  did  not  lose  her  head ;  she  continued  to  be  amia- 
ble and  kindly,  appeasing  and  advising  her  irascible 
husband.  She  especially  urged  that  a  distinction 
should  be  made  between  the  innocent  and  the  guilty, 
and  that  no  steps  should  be  taken  under  the  impulse 
of  blind  fury.  She  maintained  that  the  whole  Royalist 
party  was  not  to  be  held  responsible  for  the  excesses 
of  a  handful  of  fanatics.  Unfortunately  for  Napoleon, 
he  refused  to  listen  to  Josephine ;  in  his  exasperation 


THE  CONSPIRACY.  311 

he  lost  all  self-control ;  he  yearned  to  do  something 
terrible,  to  strike  some  strong  blow.  He  represented 
vengeance  ;  his  wife,  kindness.  At  the  Tuileries  there 
was  a  struggle  between  anger  and  pity.  The  Consu- 
lar Court  put  on  a  gloomy  aspect,  and  every  one 
wondered  whether  Bonaparte  was  to  be  victim  or 
executioner.  What  is  more  inauspicious  than  the 
prologue  of  the  event f id  drama,  called  the  death  of 
the  Duke  of  Enghien  ? 


IX. 


THE  ARREST  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  ENGHIEN. 

nVTOTHING  so  disturbs  and  upsets  rulers  as  plots 
„LM  against  their  lives.  The  same  man  who,  on  the 
battlefield,  looks  at  death  without  a  quiver,  loses  his 
self-control  when  he  thinks  that  he  is  encompassed 
by  assassins.  The  thought  that  the  freak  of  a  fanatic, 
of  a  madman,  may  overthrow  the  vast  structure  of 
power  and  pride,  this  bitter  and  cruel  thought  recall- 
ing to  the  great  man  —  sunk  in  infatuation  with  him- 
self —  the  nothingness  of  human  life  and  the  irony  of 
fate,  becomes  an  incessant  torture.  A  paltry  kitchen 
knife  may  strike  down  the  most  formidable  sword, 
the  most  majestic  sceptre.  The  merest  fool  may  make 
of  triumphant  Caesar  a  corpse.  The  men  who  are 
most  fearless  before  the  enemy  cannot  accustom  them- 
selves to  this  idea.  The}'  see  murderers  everywhere ; 
inoffensive  persons  appear  to  them  as  terrible  as 
spectres.  A  profound  sadness  and  melancholy  accom- 
pany this  anxiety.  A  man  of  powerful  imagination 
thus  haunted  by  gloomy  visions  loses  all  the  cool 
wisdom  of  a  statesman:  anger,  revenge,  the  instinct 
of  self-preservation  drive  him  to  extreme  steps. 
■612 


ARREST   OF   THE  DUKE  OF  EXGTIIEX.         313 


Bonaparte's  irritation  grew  continually.  The  arrest 
of  the  Bourbon  aides-de-camp,  who  were  allied  with 
Georges  Cadoudal  and  Cadoudals  own  confessions 
only  added  to  it.  He  waited  with  feverish  im- 
patience for  news  from  Colonel  Savary,  who,  with 
men  in  disguise,  had  for  some  weeks  been  watching 
the  cliff  at  Biville,  not  far  from  Dieppe,  where  it  was 
expected  that  a  prince  would  land  as  the  conspirators 
had  done.  There  were  jutting  rocks  beneath  the  cliff 
so  that  a  landing  could  be  made  only  at  high  tide 
and  with  a  smooth  sea.  Savary,  who  was  always  on 
the  watch,  saw  no  one  land  there  ;  Captain  Wright's 
brig,  on  board  of  which  the  prince  was  supposed  to 
be,  appeared  one  evening  and  tacked  about,  but  no 
one  came  ashore  from  it. 

Thereupon  Bonaparte  turned  his  attention  to  the 
banks  of  the  Rhine.  lie  knew  that  the  Duke  of 
Enghien,  son  of  the  Duke  of  Bourbon,  and  a  Princess 
.if  Orleans  was  then  at  Ettenheim,  in  the  Grand 
Duchy  of  IJaden.  This  Prince,  who  was  born  in 
1772.  was  renowned  for  his  bravery;  in  Condi's  army 
lie  was  regarded  as  a  hero.  After  the  battle  of 
Bersheim  he  had  given  proof  of  a  noble  humanity,  by 
saving  the  life  of  the  French  prisoners  whom  the  emi- 
gre's wished  to  shoot  in  retaliation.  In  l^'l  in  con- 
sequence of  the  treaty  of  Luneville,  he  had  to  lay 
down  his  arms  and  inhabit  Ettenheim,  a  former  resi- 
dence of  the  Cardinal  of  Rohan,  on  the  right  bank  of 
the  Rhine,  four  leagues  from  Strassburg.  There  he 
d   as  a  plain   private   citizen,   in   the  society  of  a 


314  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

young  and  charming  woman  who  warmly  loved  him, 
the  Princess  of  Rohan.  He  cultivated  flowers, 
hunted,  and  with  youthful  carelessness  scorned  the 
wise  advice  of  those  who  blamed  him  for  living  so 
near  the  French  frontier.  It  was  even  thought  that 
he  carried  his  boldness  so  far  as  to  go  occasionally  to 
Strassburg,  when,  if  rumor  was  true,  he  would  go 
quietly  to  the  theatre.  But  his  father  had  written 
to  him  from  London :  "  You  are  very  near,  take  care, 
and  take  every  precaution  to  get  word  in  time  and  to 
get  off  in  safety,  in  case  it  should  enter  the  Consul's 
head  to  abduct  you.  Don't  think  that  there  is  any 
courage  in  foolhardiness  in  this  respect."  This  letter 
was  dated  June  6,  1803. 

When  Bonaparte  learned  of  the  non-arrival  of  any 
Bourbon  prince  by  the  cliff  at  Biville,  he  imagined 
that  it  was  through  Alsace  that  one  of  the  princes, 
probably  the  Duke  of  Enghien,  would  enter  France. 
He  sent  to  Ettenheim  an  under  officer  of  the  gen- 
darmes in  disguise,  to  secure  secret  information. 
At  that  time  there  was  with  the  Duke  of  Enghien 
an  e*migre*,  General,  the  Marquis  of  Thumery,  and  the 
way  in  which  the  Germans  pronounced  this  name 
(Thoumeriez)  led  the  under  officer  to  think  that  the 
hero  of  Jemmapes  (Dumouriez)  was  with  the  prince, 
and  he  made  haste  to  send  a  report  to  this  effect, 
adding  that  the  Duke  of  Enghien  had  often  entered 
France,  according  to  some,  going  only  as  far  as 
Strassburg,  but  according  to  others,  as  far  as  Paris. 
This   report    arrived    March    10,   1804.      "What!" 


AliUKsT  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  ESGUIEN.        31o 

shouted  the  First  Consul,  when  lie  saw  M.  Real  come 
in,  "You  didn't  tell  me  that  the  Duke  of  Enghien  is 
only  f<»ur  leagues  from  the  frontier!  Am  I  a  do<r  to 
be  knocked  on  the  head  in  the  street?  Are  my  mur- 
derers sacred?  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  they  were 
gathering  at  Ettenheim  ?  This  is  a  direct  attack. 
It  is  time  for  me  to  right  lire  with  lire.  The  culprit's 
head  shall  pay  for  it." 

That  same  morning  a  servant  of  Cadoudal,  named 
Leridant,  who  was  arrested  with  his  master,  had  testi- 
fied that  a  young  man,  well  dressed,  and  an  object  of 
general  respect,  had  often  visited  the  conspirators  in 
Paris.  Bonaparte  immediately  decided  that  this 
young  man  must  have  been  the  Duke  of  Enghien. 
Often  the  vulgarest  details,  the  pettiest  circum- 
stances, settle  the  destiny  of  the  world.  If  the  Ger- 
mans of  Ettenheim  had  pronounced  the  name  of  the 
Ma  re  ju  is  of  Thuniery  a  little  less  incorrectly,  if  a  ser- 
vant had  not  mentioned  a  person  who  was  wrongly 
supposed  to  he  the  last  of  the  Condi's,  perhaps  Napo- 
leon's diadem  would  not  have  borne  this  bloody  stain. 
The  whole  affair  bears  the  mark  of  fatality.  The 
First  Consul,  had  he  been  cool  and  in  possession  of 
full  information,  would  not  have  committed  the  deed 
k\'  which  he  was  guilty  under  the  influence  of  passion, 
misled  bv  inaccurate  reports. 

A  council  was  held  March  10,  at  the  Tuileries, 
when  were  present  the  three  Consuls,  the  ministers, 
and  Fondie".  In  spite  of  the  opposition  of  Camba- 
ceres,  it  was   decided   that    the  Duke  of  Enghien  and 


316  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

the  alleged  General  Dumouriez  should  be  abducted 
from  Ettenheim  by  French  troops,  and  that  Colonel 
de  Caulaincourt  should  take  to  the  Grand  Duke  of 
Baden  a  letter  explaining  this  violation  of  German 
territory.  Caulaincourt,  who  was  related  to  the 
Conde"s,  had  no  knowledge  of  the  contents  of  the 
letter;  but  yet  he  was  uneasy.  After  the  council, 
March  10,  he  received  the  order  to  depart  imme- 
diately, as  did  Colonel  Ordener,  who  was  to  com- 
mand the  fatal  expedition. 

Five  days  later,  March  15,  Colonel  Ordener,  with 
thirty  men  of  the  Twenty-sixth  Dragoons  and  twenty- 
five  gendarmes,  crossed  the  Rhine  at  Rheinau,  nearly 
opposite  Ettenheim,  leaving  three  squadrons  of  dra- 
goons in  reserve  on  the  left  bank.  The  little  party 
under  Ordener's  command  advanced  rapidly  in  the 
darkness,  and  passed  through  three  slumbering  vil- 
lages without  being  seen.  It  was  about  dawn  when 
they  reached  Ettenheim.  They  surrounded  the  house 
in  which  was  the  Duke  of  Enghien  with  two  aides- 
de-camp,  eleven  servants,  nearly  two  and  a  half  mil- 
lion francs  in  a  money-box,  and  loaded  firearms.  One 
of  the  two  aides,  General  de  Grunstein,  hastened  to 
the  prince's  chamber  when  he  heard  the  boots  of  the 
gendarmes  on  the  pavement  and  the  clatter  of  their 
weapons.  He  shouted  out,  "  You  are  surrounded !  " 
Then  the  Duke  of  Enghien  sprang  out  of  bed,  seized 
a  double-barrelled  gun,  threw  open  a  window,  and 
took  aim  at  Major  Chariot,  the  commander  of  the 
gendarmes.     There  were  twenty  windows  opening  on 


ARREST  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  EXGIUEX.        317 

the  street,  and  from  these  the  prince's  servants  might 
have  tired  on  their  assailants,  while  the  prince,  per- 
haps, might  have  got  away  on  the  other  side  of  the 
house,  and  have  fled  towards  the  mountain,  l^ut  just 
as  he  was  taking  aim,  was  about  to  lire  the  shot 
which  would  have  been  the  signal  for  the  light  to 
begin,  M.  de  Grunstein  put  his  hand  on  the  prince's 
gun  and  prevented  him  firing.  "Gentlemen,"  said 
Major  Chariot,  "we  are  here  in  force;  don't  resist, 
it  would  do  no  good."  Then  the  gendarmes  entered 
the  house,  and  the  prince  let  himself  be  disarmed. 
They  looked  everywhere  for  General  Dumouriez, 
but  they  found  only  the  Marquis  of  Thumery,  whose 
name  had  given  rise  to  this  fatal  error.  Major  Char- 
lot  examined  M.  de  Grunstein;  and  the  Duke  broke 
in,  "If  it  had  not  been  for  him.  I  should  have  killed 
you;  you  owe  your  life  to  him."  When  they  were 
seizing  his  papers,  he  said,  "Don't  be  surprised,  you 
are  going  to  see  the  correspondence  of  a  Bourbon,  of 
a  prince  of  tin;  blood  of  Henry  IV."  Remembering 
that  there  were  a  good  many  letters  of  the  Princess 
of  Rohan  in  the  package  they  had  seized,  he  added, 
••  I  hope  vou  will  exercise  all  possible  discretion  al>out 
things  that  don't  concern  the  government." 

A  few  minutes  later,  the  gendarmes  led  away  the 
unfortunate  prince  with  his  two  aides-de-camp  and 
some  of  his  servants.  The  Duke  passed  through 
Ettenheim  on  foot  ;  at  the  town  gate  he  was  met  by 
Colonel  Ordener,  who  had  him  carried  in  a  peasant's 
cart  to  the  river,  which  he  crossed  in  a  boat,  thenco 


318  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

he  was  driven  in  a  carriage  to  Strassburg,  and  locked 
up  in  the  citadel.  On  the  way,  the  prisoner  said  to 
Major  Chariot :  "  This  expedition  must  have  been 
prepared  very  secretly,  and  I  am  surprised  that  I 
didn't  get  wind  of  it,  for  I  am  popular  at  Ettenheim. 
You  would  not  have  found  me  this  evening,  for  yes- 
terday the  Princess  of  Rohan  besought  me  to  leave ; 
but  I  postponed  my  departure  under  the  impression 
that  you  would  not  have  time  to  get  here  to-night. 
I  am  sure  that  she  will  come  and  want  to  follow  me ; 
she  is  very  much  attached  to  me ;  treat  her  well." 

The  unfortunate  duke  was  right ;  Madame  de 
Rohan  wished  to  share  his  lot.  She  reached  the 
citadel  in  tears,  begging  for  permission  to  see  the 
prince,  to  go  to  Paris  where  doubtless  she  would  have 
tried  to  move  Bonaparte.  Her  efforts  were  vain;  the 
poor  young  woman  was  never  again  to  see  the  man 
she  loved;  she  could  not  even  take  leave  of  him, 
even  see  him  a  single  moment.  Not  only  was  she 
expelled  from  the  citadel,  but  she  was  arrested  and 
forbidden  to  go  to  Paris.  "  Am  I  to  be  prisoner  for 
the  rest  of  my  life  ?  "  the  duke  asked  sadly;  "  I  esteem 
Bonaparte  and  look  upon  him  as  a  great  man ;  but  he 
is  not  a  Bourbon,  he  has  no  right  to  rule  France ;  he 
ought  to  restore  the  crown  to  my  family."  He  re- 
mained in  the  citadel  of  Strassburg  from  the  15th  of 
March  till  the  morning  of  the  18th,  when  he  was 
awakened  and  told  that  lie  was  to  depart  alone,  with- 
out his  aides-de-camp  and  his  servants.  After  dress- 
ing hastily  he  said  to  them,  "  My  friends,  I  am  sorry 


AllliEST  OF  THE   hl'KE  OF  EXGIIIEX.        319 

that  I  can  do  nothing  more  for  you/'  Then  he  got 
into  the  post-chaise  which  was  to  carry  him  directly 
to  Vincennes,  the  termination  of  this  fatal  journey. 

What  was  going  on  meanwhile  in  Bonaparte's 
mind?  He  was  gloomy  and  agitated,  and  he  pre- 
served an  ominous  silence.  No  one  dared  speak  to 
him.  It  was  a  Sunday,  —  Palm  Sunday,  —  and  mass 
was  said  at  the  Tuileries  as  usual.  After  mass, 
Josephine  told  Madame  de  Re'musat  that  she  was  go- 
ing to  spend  the  week  at  Malmaison.  "  I  am  very 
glad  of  it,''  she  added,  "for  Paris  frightens  me  now.*' 
A  few  hours  later,  the  carriages  of  the  Consular  Court 
started  from  the  Tuileries  for  Malmaison ;  in  one  was 
Bonaparte,  in  the  other,  Josephine  with  Madame  de 
Re'musat.  On  the  way  thither  the  following  dialogue 
took  place  between  the  two  women.  "I  am  going  to 
tell  y<>u  a  great  secret.  This  morning  Bonaparte  told 
me  that  he  had  sent  M.  de  Caulaincourt  to  the  fron- 
tier to  seize  the  Duke  of  Enghien.  lie  is  to  he 
brought  here."  "Heavens!  and  what  are  they  going 
to  do  with  him?"  "Apparently  he  is  to  he  tried.  \ 
have  done  my  best  to  get  him  to  promise  that  the 
prince  shall  not  be  put  to  death,  but  I  am  much 
afraid  that  his  mind  is  made  up."  "What!  you 
think  he  will  have  him  put  to  death?"  "I  am 
afraid  so." 

The  two  women  were  in  great  consternation  when 
they  reached  Malmaison,  where  they  were  obliged  to 
conceal  their  emotions.  The  next  day,  Monday, 
March  10,  in  the   morning.'  Madame    P.onaparte   had 


320  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

a  cypress  set  out  in  a  part  of  the  garden  which  had 
just  been  arranged.  "  Ah !  Madame,"  said  to  her 
Madame  de  Reinusat,  "that  tree  is  very  appropriate 
to  the  day." 

Tuesday,  March  20,  the  Duke  of  Enghien  reached 
Paris  with  his  guard  at  eleven  in  the  morning.  He 
was  kept  in  his  carriage  at  the  gates  for  part  of  the 
day,  and  at  four  in  the  afternoon  he  was  driven  by 
the  outer  boulevards  to  the  Castle  of  Vincennes. 

Meanwhile  Bonaparte  at  Malmaison  assumed  a 
calmness  which  he  did  not  feel.  After  dinner  he 
played  with  his  nephew,  the  young  Napoleon,  Louis's 
son.  Observing  Madame  de  Remusat's  pallor,  he 
said  to  her,  "  Why  didn't  you  rouge  ?  You  are  too 
pale."  She  replied  that  she  had  forgotten  it.  "What ! 
a  woman  forgetting  to  rouge !  You  would  never  do 
that,  Josephine.  Two  tilings  are  always  becoming  to 
women,  —  rouge  and  tears." 

Then  he  began  a  game  of  chess  with  Madame  de 
Re"musat,  and  while  playing  he  repeated  to  himself 
these  lines  from  Voltaire :  — 

Of  the  gods  we  worship,  know  then  the  difference  : 
Thine  have  commanded  thee  murder  and  vengeance  ; 
And  mine,  when  thy  hand  lias  but  just  now  slain  me, 
Orders  me  to  pity  thee  and  to  forgive  thee. 

He  repeated  also  Corneille's  great  scene :  — 

Let  us  be  friends,  China;  it  is  I  who  ask  thee. 

But  it  was  not  clemency  that  was  to  prevail. 


THE  DEATH  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  ENGHTEN. 

MARCH  20,  before  the  end  of  the  day,  the  Duke 
of  Enghien,  who  had  no  anticipations  of  what 
awaited  him,  reached  the  Castle  of  Vincennes,  where 
lie  \\as  to  die.  The  castle  was  then  dilapidated  and 
unused.  The  governor,  one  Harrel,  had  received 
orders  to  prepare  accommodations  for  a  prisoner ;  and 
he  had  also  been  requested  to  dig  a  grave  in  the 
courtyard.  He  answered  that  this  was  not  easy,  since 
the  courtyard  was  paved.  He  was  told  to  choose 
another  place,  and  he  accordingly  had  it  dug  in  the 
moat  which  encircled  the  building.  The  Prince  was 
hungry,  and  they  sent  out  into  the  village  for  food. 
He  sat  down  to  the  table,  and,  while  eating,  ques- 
tioned Harrel  about  Vincennes  and  all  that  had  hap- 
pened there  since  the  Revolution.  He  said  he  had 
been  brought  up  near  the  castle,  and  added,  "What 
do  they  want  of  me?  What  arc  they  going  to  do 
with  me?*'  But  his  words  and  his  face  expressed  no 
anxiety;  and  after  dinner,  being  tired  from  his  jour- 
ney, he  went  to  lx.*d  in  perfect  calmness. 

Meanwhile  the  preparations  for  the  tragedy  were 

821 


322  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

going  on.  The  First  Consul  had  the  orders  made 
out,  and  signed  them  himself.  Then  at  about  five  in 
the  evening,  he  had  Colonel  Savary,  the  commander 
of  the  picked  band  of  gendarmes,  summoned  to  his 
room,  where  he  gave  him  a  sealed  letter,  with  orders 
to  cany  it  without  a  moment's  delay  to  General 
Murat,  the  governor  of  Paris.  When  he  reached 
Murat's  house,  Savary  met  Talleyrand,  the  Minister 
of  Foreign  Affairs,  coming  out.  The  colonel  was  in 
complete  ignorance  of  what  was  going  to  happen ; 
and  he  was  expecting  to  return  to  Malmaison,  when 
he  received  orders  to  take  the  command,  in  addition 
to  his  gendarmes,  of  a  brigade  of  infantry  which  was 
to  be  that  same  evening  at  the  Saint  Antoine  gate ; 
and  this  force  he  was  to  lead  to  Vincennes.  Savary 
led  the  gendarmes  through  the  castle  gate,  and  drew 
them  up  in  the  courtyard,  cutting  off  all  communica- 
tion with  the  outside.  lie  then  posted  the  brigade 
of  infantry  on  the  esplanade,  on  the  side  of  the  park. 
Meanwhile  the  military  commission  that  was  to  try 
the  Duke  of  Enghien  was  assembling:.  It  was  com- 
posed  as  follows :  General  Ilulin,  commander  of  the 
foot  grenadiers  of  the  Consular  Guard,  president;  five 
colonels  of  the  Paris  garrison,  judges ;  and  a  major 
of  the  picked  gendarmes,  secretary.  The  meeting 
was  held  in  one  of  the  large  rooms  of  the  inhabited 
portion  of  the  castle ;  that  is  to  say,  the  building 
over  the  entrance,  towards  the  park. 

At  midnight  the  unfortunate  Prince  was  examined; 
at  two  o'clock  in  the  morning  lie  appeared  before  the 


DEATH  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  EXGIIIEX.         823 


military  commission.  The  spectators  were  one  of 
Murat's  aides,  sonic  officers  and  gendarmes.  The 
accused  had  no  defender.  He  answered  the  ques- 
tions put  to  him  with  calmness  and  dignity.  He  con- 
fessed that  he  had  served  against  France,  and  that  he 
was  ready  to  serve  again  in  the  same  way;  but  he 
denied  all  affiliation  with  Pichegru,  who,  he  said,  if 
report  was  true,  employed  abominable  methods.  He 
concluded  by  expressing,  first  by  word  of  mouth,  then 
by  writing,  his  desire  to  see  the  First  Consul.  "  My 
name,  my  rank."  he  added,  "my  way  of  thinking,  and 
the  horrors  of  my  position  convince  me  that  Bona- 
parte will  not  refuse  my  request." 

But  the  victim  was  mistaken.  The  orders  brought 
by  Savary  were  peremptory ;  they  provided  that,  in 
case  of  condemnation,  —  and  condemnation  was  cer- 
tain.—  the  sentence  should  follow  at  once.  Every- 
thing must  be  done  that  very  night.  The  judges,  after 
unanimously  convicting  the  Prince,  were  willing  to 
send  his  letter  to  the  First  Consul,  but  that  was  use- 
less. 

While  they  were  deliberating  about  his  sentence, 
the  Duke  of  Enghien  had  gone  back  to  his  room,  and 
there  he  had  lain  down  on  his  bed  and  fallen  asleep. 
When  the  matter  was  settled,  they  came  to  awaken 
him  and  led  him  away.  lie  was  so  free  from  any 
anticipation  of  what  was  about  to  happen,  that  as  he 
went  down  the  stairs  to  the  ditch  he  asked  where 
they  were  going  to  take  him.  but  he  received  no 
answer.     Harrel  went  in  front  with  a  lantern.     When 


324  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  Fill  ST  CONSUL. 

he  felt  the  cold  air  rising  from  below,  the  unhappy 
young  man  pressed  Harrel's  arm  and  asked,  "Are 
they  going  to  put  me  in  a  dungeon?  "  It  was  not  a 
dungeon  that  was  opening  for  him;  it  was  the  grave. 
When  they  got  out  into  the  ditch,  he  was  stationed 
before  the  squad  who  were  to  shoot  him.  Then  when 
the  whole  truth  dawned  before  him,  he  wrote  a  letter 
to  be  sent  with  a  rinof  and  a  lock  of  his  hair  to 
Madame  de  Rohan,  and  prepared  for  death  like  a  true 
heir  of  the  great  Conde\  When  some  one  proposed 
that  his  eyes  should  be  bandaged,  he  declined  with 
dignity,  and,  addressing  the  soldiers  who  were  to 
shoot  him,  he  said,  very  gently :  "  You  are  French- 
men. You  will,  I  am  sure,  do  me  the  great  favor  not 
to  miss  me."  Then  he  fell,  his  body  riddled  with 
balls. 

The  day  was  beginning  to  dawn  when  Savary 
started  for  Malmaison,  where  he  was  to  report  to 
Bonaparte  what  had  just  taken  place.  On  the  way 
he  met  Re*al,  a  Councillor  of  State,  who  was  going, 
too  late,  to  Vincennes.  An  order  had  been  sent  to 
him  to  examine  the  prisoner  with  regard  to  his  al- 
leged complicity  with  Cadoudal  and  Pichegru,  but 
he  was  asleep  when  the  order  reached  his  house;  and 
lie  was  worn  out  by  some  work  which  had  taken  sev- 
eral days  and  nights.  He  had  given  orders  to  his 
servants  that  he  was  on  no  account  to  be  disturbed. 
Thus  he  had  no  knowledge  of  the  letter  until  it  was 
too  late  to  save  the  victim. 

At  Malmaison,  Savary  at  once  entered  Bonaparte's 


DEATH    OF   THE   DUKE   OF  EM  HUES.         325 

study.  ••The  First  Consul,"  he  says  in  his  Memoirs, 
••seemed  to  hear  me  with  great  surprise.  lie  could 
not  understand  why  lie  had  been  tried  before  Real's 
arrival,  for  he  had  sent  orders  to  him  to  go  to  Vin- 
cennes  to  examine  the  prisoner.  lie  looked  at  me 
with  his  lynx  eyes,  and  said:  'There  is  something 
here  I  don't  understand.  That  the  Commission 
should  have  given  its  verdict  on  the  confession  of 
the  Duke  of  Enghien  does  not  surprise  me,  but  this 
confession  was  only  made  at  a  trial  which  should  not 
have  taken  place  until  after  M.  Real  had  examined 
him  on  a  matter  which  it  was  of  importance  for  us 
to  have  cleared  up."  Then  he  said  again,  'There  is 
something  her*.'  beyond  me.  A  crime  has  been  com- 
mitted which  leads  to  nothing  ! '  " 

Savary  then  went  into  the  drawing-room,  where  he 
awaited  Madame  Bonaparte.  His  face  was  very  pale 
and  lx»re  marks  of  agitation.  As  soon  as  Josephine  ap- 
peared, she  said.  "Well,  it's  over'/"  ••  Yes,  madanie." 
he  answered  ;  "  he  died  this  morning,  and.  I  must  say, 
with  great  coinage.  After  his  death  permission  was 
given  the  gendarmes  to  take  his  clothes,  his  watch, 
what  money  lie  had  on  his  person  ;  but  no  one  would 
touch  him.  People  may  say  what  they  please  ;  it  is 
impossible  to  see  such  men  die  as  calmlv  as  one  can 
see  others;  and  as  for  me.  I  find  it  hard  to  recover 
myself." 

Then  came  Eugene  de  Beauharnais.  ••  My  mother 
was  in  tears."  he  says  in  his  Memoirs,  "and  was 
bitterly  reproaching   the    First   Consul,  who  listened 


326  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  Fill  ST  CONSUL. 

iii  silence  and  soon  withdrew  to  his  study.  In  a  few 
moments  Caulaincourt  entered,  just  back  from  Strass- 
burg.  He  was  surprised  to  find  my  mother  in  dis- 
tress, and  she  hastened  to  state  the  cause.  When  he 
heard  the  whole  story,  he  beat  his  brow  and  pulled 
out  his  hair,  saying,  '  Why  was  I  mixed  up  in  this 
unhappy  business  ? ' " 

When  Madame  de  Re'musat  saw  Caulaincourt,  she 
started  back.  "And  you,  too,"  he  said,  "you  are 
going  to  hate  me,  and  yet  I  am  only  unfortunate,  but 
very  unfortunate.  In  reward  for  my  devotion  the 
First  Consul  is  going  to  disgrace  me.  I  have  been 
shamefully  deceived,  and  I  am  a  ruined  man  !  " 

The  dinner-hour  came ;  besides  those  regularly  in 
attendance,  there  were  present  Louis  Bonaparte  and 
his  wife,  Eugene  do  Beauharnais,  Colonel  de  Caulain- 
court, and  General  Hulin.  "  The  sight  of  this  man 
impressed  me  most  unpleasantly,"  said  Madame  de 
Re'musat,  who  was  one  of  the  company.  "  The  First 
Consul  did  not  assume  any  gayety ;  on  the  con- 
trary, throughout  the  dinner  he  remained  sunk  in 
deep  thought,  and  we  were  all  very  silent.  Just  as 
we  were  about  to  leave  the  table,  the  Consul,  as  if 
thinking  aloud,  said  in  a  harsh,  dry  voice,  '  At  any 
rate,  they  will  see  what  we  are  capable  of,  and  I  hope 
that  in  the  future  they  will  leave  us  alone.' " 

After  dinner  they  went  into  the  drawing-room,  and 
one  after  another  there  appeared  Joseph  Bonaparte, 
M.  Baccioehi  and  his  wife,  with  M.  de  Fontanes, 
Murat,  Dubois,  the  Prefect  of  Police,  some  Council- 


DEATH   OF  THE   DUKE  OF  ENGHIEN.         327 

lors  of  State,  and  other  officials.  After  a  long  con- 
versation on  many  literary  and  historical  subjects,  the 
First  Consul  had  some  extracts  read  from  the  corre- 
spondence of  Drake,  the  English  minister  at  Munich, 
who  had  had  a  hand  in  the  recent  conspiracies.  When 
the  reading  was  finished,  Bonaparte  said :  "  These  are 
undeniable  proofs.  These  people  want  to  kindle  dis- 
order in  France,  and  kill  the  Revolution  as  embodied 
in  me.  I  have  shown  of  what  it  is  capable.  I  have 
been  obliged  to  defend  and  avenge  it.  .  .  .  I  have 
shcil  blood;  I  had  to  do  it,  simply  because  bleeding 
figures  in  political  medicine.  I  am  the  man  of  the 
State,  I  am  the  French  Revolution,  I  say  once  more, 
and  I  shall  uphold  it." 

This  was  a  gloomy  period  at  Malmaison  this  week 
in  March,  just  when  the  spring  was  beginning.  This 
brilliant  residence,  once  so  animated,  so  joyful,  became 
a  sombre  spot.  Josephine,  generally  so  affable,  grew 
anxious,  fearing  both  to  speak  and  to  keep  silence. 
Bourrienne  thus  describes  a  visit  which  lie  made 
Thursday,  March  22.  -  On  arriving,  I  was  at  once 
taken  to  her  boudoir,  where  she  was  sitting  with  Hop 
tense  and  Madame  de  Reanusat.  I  found  them  all 
three  in  great  dejection.  .  .  .  'Ah!  Bourrienne,' 
said  Josephine  when  she  saw  me,  'what  a  terrible 
misfortune  !  .  .  .  At  any  rate,  no  one  can  say  that 
it's  my  fault,  for  I  did  everything  that  I  could  to  turn 
him  from  this  project.  He  had  not  said  anything  to 
me  about  it ;  but  you  know  how  I  read  him,  and  he 
admitted  everything.     lie  was  indifferent  to  all  my 


328  THE   WIFE   OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

prayers.  I  hung  about  his  neck,  I  clasped  his  knees, 
—  "  Mind  your  own  affairs  !  "  he-  shouted  in  anger, 
"  this  is  not  a  woman's  business."  ' 

Josephine  added,  in  great  emotion,  "What  must 
people  think  in  Paris?  I  am  sure  that  every  one  must 
be  cursing  him ;  for  here,  even  his  flatterers  seem 
downcast  when  they  are  out  of  his  presence.  Ever 
since  yesterday  we  have  been  very  depressed.  And 
he !  You  know  what  he  is  when  he  is  not  satisfied 
with  himself  and  yet  tries  to  seem  so ;  no  one  dares 
to  speak  to  him,  and  we  are  all  in  deep  gloom.  .  .  . 
How  Savary  distressed  me  yesterday  when  he  came 
to  me  to  see  about  something  the  Duke  of  Enghien 
entrusted  him  with  before  his  death.  Here  is  his 
portrait  and  the  lock  of  his  hair  which  he  wanted  me 
to  send  to  some  one  who  was  very  dear  to  him.  Savary 
almost  had  tears  in  his  eyes  when  he  told  me  about 
the  duke's  last  moments,  and  when  he  tried  to  re- 
cover himself  he  said,  '  It's  no  use,  madame,  one 
can't  see  a  man  like  that  die  and  not  be  moved.' " 

While  Josephine  was  grieving,  Talleyrand,  the 
Minister  of  Foreign  Affairs,  was  giving  an  entertain- 
ment to  which  the  whole  Diplomatic  Body  was  in- 
vited. Count  Miot  de  Melito  speaks  of  it  in  his 
Memoirs  as  follows  :  "  Amid  all  these  scenes  of  terror 
and  alarm,  M.  de  Talleyrand  found  a  way  to  distin- 
guish himself  by  a  piece  of  marked  flattery ;  he  gave 
a  ball  three  days  after  the  death  of  the  Duke  of 
Enghien.  Two  months  before,  Madame  de  Talley- 
rand had  refused  an  invitation  to  a  ball  to  be  given 


DEATH    OF   THE    IH'KK   OF  EXGHIEN.  320 


by  .M.  df  Cobentzel,  the  Austrian  ambassador,  on  the 
21st  <if  January,  the  anniversary  of  the  execution  of 
Louis  XVI.  How  can  one  dance  on  that  day?  she 
said,  and  the  Minister  put  it  off  to  another  daw 
What  needs  to  he  said  of  these  scruples  and  of  the 
indecency  of  an  entertainment  given, one  might  almost 
say,  when  the  guns  were  firing  which  had  just  killed 
a  relative  of  the  same  Louis  XVI?" 

At  the  end  of  the  week  the  First  Consul  left 
Malmaison  and  returned  to  the  Tuileries.  On  Palm 
Sunday,  March  2o,  mass  was  celebrated  as  usual  in 
the  chapel  of  the  palace.  General  de  Segur,  who  was 
present,  thus  describes  the  scene:  "Bonaparte  made 
his  way  through  the  sdent  crowd  that  opened  to  let 
him  pass.  There  was  no  change  in  his  face.  During 
the  prayer,  when  the  host  was  elevated,  I  watched 
him  with  renewed  attention.  Then,  before  God.  in 
presence  of  his  victim  whom  I  seemed  to  see  in  his 
U'ore  finding  refuse  at  this  Supreme  tribunal,  still 
hearing  the  traces  of  his  swift  punishment,  I  thought 
in  mv  agonized  heart  that  some  remorse  or  at  least 
some  regret  would  show  itself  on  the  features  of  a 
man  who  had  done  so  cruel  a  deed;  but,  whatever 
may  have  been  his  feelings,  nothing  about  him 
changed;  he  remained  calm,  and  through  the  teal's 
that  filled  my  eyes,  I  saw  his  face  like  that  of  a  stern, 
impassible  judge." 

The  mass  over,  the  First  Consul,  as  usual,  betook 
himself  to  the  large  rooms  of  the  palace  where  there 
awaited  him  everv  Stindav  a  throng  <>f  courtiers  and 


330  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

suitors.  "I  had  just  seen  him  in  the  presence  of 
God,"  adds  General  de  Segur,  "  I  wanted  to  see  him  in 
the  presence  of  men,  hence  I  kept  close  to  him  in  the 
audience  that  followed.  His  manner  was  alternately 
one  of  forced  calm,  and  of  gloom,  but  he  was  more 
readily  approached  than  was  usual.  He  walked  slowly 
up  and  down  the  great  rooms,  more  slowly  than  was 
his  wont,  and  he  himself  seemed  to  notice  this.  He 
stopped  at  almost  every  step,  letting  the  crowd  gather 
about  him  and  saying  a  few  words  to  everybody.  He 
made  continual  reference,  directly  or  indirectly,  to 
the  night  between  the  20th  and  21st  of  March.  He 
was  evidently  sounding  public  opinion,  waiting,  even 
suggesting  answers  which  he  hoped  would  be  satis- 
factory, but  he  only  got  one ;  it  was  intended  for 
flattery,  but  it  was  so  clumsy  that  he  interrupted  it 
and  turned  his  back ;  it  unintentionally  charged  him 
with  meeting  an  attempt  at  murder  with  murder 
itself." 

The  arrest  of  the  victim  on  the  soil  of  Baden 
inspired  the  Russian  government  to  make  vigorous 
remonstrances  against  this  violation  of  the  territory 
of  the  German  Empire.  The  First  Consul  replied  in 
the  Moniteur  with  an  article  recalling  the  assassina- 
tion of  Paul  I.  At  St.  Petersburg  a  funeral  service 
wits  held  for  the  peace  of  the  soul  of  the  young  Conde\ 
On  the  cenotaph  was  this  inscription :  "  To  the  Duke 
of  Enghien,  quern  devoravit  bellua  Corsica" 

"  The  two  foes,"  Chateaubriand  said,  "  had  an 
apparent  reconciliation ;  but  the  wound  which  poli* 


DEATH  OF  THE   hl'KE  OF  EXGHIEN.         331 


lies  made,  and  insult  enlarged,  remained  in  the  heart 
of  each.  Napoleon  thought  himself  avenged  only 
when  he  slept  at  Moscow;  Alexander  was  satisfied 
only  when   he  entered   Paris." 

An  uneasy  conscience  tormented  every  one  of  the 
men  who  took  part  in  this  terrible  affair.  Napoleon 
and  every  one  of  his  assistants  tried  to  justify  the 
action;  and  their  efforts  attest  their  anxiety.  His 
share  in  it  lacked  the  martyr  of  St.  Helena  with  cruel 
memories  on  his  lonely  rock;  he  kept  returning  to  it 
continually,  and  his  explanations  were  contradictory. 
His  companion,  the  Count  of  Las  Cases,  wrote  thus 
in  the  "Memorial  of  St.  Helena":  "The  Emperor 
often  spoke  of  this  subject,  and  when  he  did,  as  on 
many  other  occasions,  I  could  see  the  private  citizen 
struggling  with  the  public  man,  and  the  natural  senti- 
ments of  his  heart  contending  with  his  pride  and  the 
dignity  of  his  position.  In  the  freedom  of  intimacy, 
he  did  not  show  indifference  to  the  fate  of  the  unhappy 
prince.  One  day,  after  he  had  spoken  to  me  of  his 
youth  and  sail  fate,  he  concluded  thus:  'And  I  have 
learned  since  that  he  favored  me;  I  have  been  told 
that  he  never  spoke  of  me  without  expressing  admira- 
tion, ami  vet  that  is  the  way  justice  is  distributed  in 
this  world  ! '  " 

That  was  the  way  Napoleon  spoke  of  it  in  the  free- 
dom of  private  talk,  but  in  t lie  presence  of  strangers 
his  language  was  wry  different:  "The  Duke  of  En- 
ghieii  and  all  his  allies  had  no  other  aim  than  to  kill 
me;  I  was   threatened   from  all   sides  and  at  ©very 


332  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIB  ST  CONSUL. 

moment.  There  were  infernal  machines,  conspiracies, 
ambushes  of  all  sorts.  I  grew  tired  of  them.  I 
grasped  the  opportunity  to  fill  even  London  with  ter- 
ror and  I  succeeded  in  it.  From  that  day  the  plotting 
ceased.  And  who  can  find  any  fault  with  what  I 
did  ?  What !  every  day  from  a  distance  of  a  hundred 
and  fifty  leagues  these  men  could  aim  their  death- 
blows at  me ;  no  power,  no  tribunal  could  protect  me, 
and  I  was  to  be  denied  the  natural  privilege  of  meet- 
ing force  with  force  ?  .  .  .  Blood  cries  for  blood ;  it 
is  the  natural,  inevitable,  infallible  reaction ;  unhappy 
he  who  provokes  it!  ...  One  must  be  foolish  or 
mad  to  imagine  that  a  family  could  have  the  strange 
privilege  of  attacking  me  every  day,  while  I  should 
not  have  the  right  of  retaliation.  They  certainly 
could  not  reasonably  suppose  themselves  superior  to 
the  law  for  the  purpose  of  attacking  others,  and  then 
reclaim  their  protection  for  self-defence;  the  condi- 
tions ought  to  be  equal.  Personally  I  had  never 
done  anything  to  any  one  of  them;  a  great  nation 
had  placed  me  at  its  head ;  almost  the  whole  of  Eu- 
rope had  assented  to  this  choice ;  my  blood  after  all 
was  not  mud,  it  was  time  to  make  it  equal  to  their 
own." 

That  is  the  way  Napoleon  talked  before  strangers, 
but  to  his  intimates  he  let  fall  this  confession :  "  Cer- 
tainly, if  I  had  known  in  time  certain  particulars  con- 
cerning the  opinions  and  character  of  the  prince,  and 
especially  if  I  had  seen  the  letter  that  he  wrote  to  me, 
which  was  not  delivered  —  Heaven  knows  why —  until 


DEATH  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  EXGHIEy.         333 

after  his  death,  certainly  I  should  have  pardoned  him." 
After  recounting  this  conversation,  Las  Cases  goes  on: 
"  And  we  saw  clearly  that  these  words  of  the  Emperor 
expressed  his  real  feeling  and  character,  and  for  us 
alone,  for  he  would  have  felt  humiliated  if  any  one 
had  imagined  for  a  moment  that  he  was  trying  to  lay 
the  blame  on  any  one  else  or  condescending  to  defend 
himself.  His  fear  of  this  or  his  sensitiveness  was 
such  that,  when  he  was  speaking  to  strangers  or  dic- 
tating for  the  public,  lie  would  limit  himself  to  the 
assertion  that  if  he  had  had  knowledge  of  the  prince's 
letter,  he  should  have  perhaps  pardoned  him  in  view 
of  the  great  political  advantages  of  such  a  course. 
And  in  writing  down  his  last  thoughts,  which  he 
knew  would  be  regarded  with  reverence  by  his  con- 
temporaries and  by  posterity,  he  said  on  this  subject, 
which  he  knew  was  one  of  great  importance  to  his 
reputation,  that  if  it  were  to  be  done  over,  he  should 
act  in  the  same  way.  Such  was  the  man,  such  the 
quality  of  his  mind,  the  nature  of  his  character." 

Before  the  altar  at  the  mass  of  the  Tuileries,  before 
eternity  at  Saint  Helena,  Napoleon  tried  to  harden 
himself  against  remorse.  He  wrote  in  his  will:  '' I 
had  the  Duke  of  Enghien  arrested  and  tried,  because 
it  was  necessary  for  the  security,  the  interest,  and  the 
honor  of  the  French  people,  when  the  Count  of  Artois, 
by  his  own  confession,  was  keeping  sixty  assassins  in 
Paris.  In  similar  circumstances  I  should  do  the  same 
thing."  Yet  those  who  forgive  the  great  Emperor 
so  many  victories  cannot  forgive  this  drop  of  blood. 


334  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

The  great  singer  of  Napoleon,  Victor  Hugo,  who 
called  Napoleon  the  sun  of  which  he  was  the  Mem- 
non,  could  not  forget  the  moat  of  Vincennes  in  the 
magnificent  poem  in  which  he  sings  the  dialogue  of 
praise  and  denunciation.  Lamartine,  severer  even 
than  Chateaubriand,  in  his  "  Ode  to  Bonaparte,"  has 
also  written  this :  "  His  tomb  has  been  built  beneath 
the  vaults  erected  at  the  Invalides  by  Louis  XIV., 
where  the  statues  of  twelve  victories,  each  carved 
from  a  single  granite  block,  and  forming  part  of  the 
massive  pillars  that  support  the  temple,  seem  to  form 
the  guard  of  centuries  round  the  porphyry  urn  that 
contains  his  ashes.  But  in  the  shadow,  seated  on  his 
grave,  there  is  an  invisible  statue,  which  darkens  and 
dims  all  the  others ;  it  is  the  statue  of  a  young  man, 
torn  by  midnight  ruffians  from  the  arms  of  the  woman 
he  loved,  from  the  inviolable  asylum  in  which  he 
thought  himself  secure,  assassinated  by  the  light  of 
a  lantern  at  the  foot  of  the  palace  of  his  fathers.  A 
cold  curiosity  carries  the  visitor  to  the  battlefields  of 
Marengo,  Austerlitz,  Wagram,  Leipsic,  "Waterloo ; 
he  wanders  over  them  with  dry  eyes ;  but  one  is 
shown,  at  a  corner  of  the  wsdl  near  the  foundations 
of  Vincennes,  at  the  bottom  of  a  ditch,  a  spot  cov- 
ered with  nettles  and  weeds;  he  says,  'There  it  is  ! ' 
he  ntters  a  cry,  and  carries  away  with  him  undying 
pity  for  the  victim  and  an  implacable  resentment 
against  tlie  assassin.  This  resentment  is  vengeance 
for  the  past  and  a  lesson  for  the  future.  Let  the 
ambitious,   whether  soldiers,   tribunes,   or   kings,   re- 


DEATH  OF  THE  DUKE  OF  ESGUIEX.         33.*) 

member  that  if  they  have  hirelings  to  do  their  will, 
and  flatterers  to  excuse  them  while  they  reign,  there 
yet  comes  afterwards  a  human  conscience  to  judge 
them,  and  pity  to  hate  them.  The  murderer  has  but 
one  hour;  the  victim  has  eternity." 

The  crimes  of  the  Legitimists  do  not  justify  the 
imitation  of  their  misdeeds,  or  render  the  Duke  of 
Enghien  responsible  for  acts  in  which  he  had  no  part. 
Humanity  is  a  sad  thing !  What  great  man  is  abso- 
lutely  pure?  What  party  is  unsullied?  There  are 
stains  on  Royalists,  Republicans,  Imperialists;  no  sun 
free  of  spots.  We  are  told  that  the  augurs  could  not 
look  at  one  another  without  laughing;  may  we  not 
say  that  the  different  parties  in  Frame  cannot  look 
at  one  another  without  shuddering?  Why  was  it 
that  Napoleon,  after  seizing  the  Duke  of  Enghien,  to 
show  his  power,  did  not  set  him  free,  satisfying  him- 
self with  saving,  "I  might  have  put  you  to  death! 
I  forgive  you"?  What  a  better  way  of  laying  the 
foundation  of  the  Empire  with  this  act  of  clemency! 
it  would  have  been  a  stroke'  of  genius  to  disclose  the 
plots  of  the  I ii mil i» «ns,  their  complicity  in  detestable 
conspiracies,  and  then  to  set  free  the  heir  of  the 
Condes  in  memory  of  the  hero  of  Rocroy !  What 
true-hearted  Royalist  would  not  have  admired  the 
great  man  ?  That  would  have  been  to  act  like  a  hero, 
a  wav  of  disarming  hate,  of  preventing  coalitions,  of 
wringing  from  Europe  a  cry  of  gratitude  and  surprise, 
of  doing  something  noble,  grand,  sublime.  As  a  mat- 
ter id  fact,  there  is  nothing  more  politic  or  wiser  than 


336  THE   WIFE  OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

virtue.  I  am  sure  that  often  when  he  recalled  the 
death  of  the  Duke  of  Enghien,  Napoleon  must  have 
repented  in  the  bottom  of  his  heart  that  he  had  not 
followed  the  recommendations  of  clemency  that  were 
urged  upon  him  by  Josephine,  his  best  friend. 


XI. 

THE  LAST  DAYS   OF   THE   CONSULATE. 

THERE  is  no  city  in  the  world  where  memories 
are  shorter  than  in  Paris.  The  impression  made 
by  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Enghien  was  brief  as  it 
was  deep.  As  M.  Paul  de  Re*musat  has  said  in  the 
preface  of  his  grandmother's  Me  moil's,  "  Even  in  the 
Royalists,  who  were  absolutely  hostile  to  the  govern- 
ment, this  event  called  forth  more  grief  than  indig- 
nation,  so  confused  were  men's  ideas  upon  questions  of 
political  justice  and  statecraft."  Yet  on  the  day  after 
the  event  the  First  Consul  had  been  struck  by  the 
altered  faces  of  those  he  met.  But  far  from  being: 
alarmed,  he  was  anxious  to  show  himself  in  public  as 
usual,  and  he  went  with  his  wife  to  the  opera,  although 
some  people  advised  him  to  wait  a  little.  Madame 
de  Remusat  tells  us  that  she  accompanied  Madame 
Bonaparte,  whose  carriage  followed  close  l)ehind  that 
of  the  First  Consul.  Usually  he  did  not  wait  for  his 
wife,  lnit  went  straight  up  the  staircase  to  his  box: 
but  this  time  he  waited  in  the  little  room  K'hind, 
giving  Josephine  time  to  join  him.  "She  was  trem- 
bling," Madame  de  Reanusat  goes  on  to  saw  "and  he 


388  THE  WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

was  very  pale.  He  looked  at  us  all,  and  seemed  to 
be  trying  to  read  from  our  faces  what  we  thought  his 
reception  would  be.  At  last  he  went  forward  as  if 
he  were  charging  a  battery.  He  was  greeted  as  usual, 
whether  it  was  that  the  sight  of  him  produced  its 
usual  effect  —  for  the  multitude  does  not  change  its 
habits  in  .a  moment  —  or  that  the  police  had  taken 
precautionary  measures.  I  had  been  much  afraid  that 
he  would  not  be  cheered,  and  when  I  perceived  that 
he  was,  I  gave  a  sigh  of  relief." 

March  27,  a  week  after  the  death  of  the  Duke  of 
Enghien,  the  Senate,  in  response  to  a  communication 
concerning  the  criminal  correspondence  of  the  Eng- 
lish emissaries  in  Germany,  said  to  Bonaparte,  "  You 
have  delivered  us  from  the  chaos  of  the  past,  you 
make  us  grateful  for  the  benefits  of  the  present; 
guarantee  to  us  the  future.  Great  man,  complete 
your  work;  make  it  as  immortal  as  your  glory."  The 
First  Consul's  reply  to  this  official  overture  was  meas- 
ured; he  said  that  he  would  reflect  upon  it;  but 
every  one  knew  that  the  Empire  was  imminent.  As 
Miot  de  Melito  has  said,  the  people  of  Paris  had  no 
recollections  of  the  Bourbons  or  any  love  for  them ; 
they  were  entirely  lost  from  sight.  And,  unfortu- 
nately, the  Parisians  had  been  too  long  accustomed 
to  bloody  scenes  to  find  anything  in  the  events  at 
Vmcennes  more  extraordinary  than  in  many  others 
which  they  had  witnessed.  "  The  spring  was  begin- 
ning, and  fashion  had  brought  back  the  walks  to 
Longchamps  with  more  than  their  old-time  brilliancy. 


LAST  DAYS   OF   THE  COSSVLATE.  ".".!'! 


After  criticising  the  show  of  faces  and  fashions,  peo- 
ple began  to  discuss  the  great  political  change  which 
was  about  to  take  place." 

The  First  Consul  and  his  wife  left  the  Tuilories 
for  Saint  Cloud,  where  there  was  to  be  a  general  re- 
hearsal of  the  great  spectacular  drama  entitled  The 
Empire.  The  tribunes  were  transformed  into  cour- 
tiers; the  red  caps  gave' place  to  red  heels.  Nothing 
was  thought  of  but  etiquette,  high-sounding  titles, 
and  court  uniforms.  The  time  of  revolutionary 
songs  had  gone.  How  those  rough  Brutuses  must 
have  laughed  at  themselves!  And  the  Royalists,  who 
were  rivalling  the  flatteries  of  the  regicides,  must 
have  been  surprised  by  their  own  recantations.  From 
the  moment  when  the  palace  doors  were  reopened 
they  felt  themselves  drawn  thither  by  an  irresistible 
force;  for  in  the  nature  of  great  lords  there  is,  as 
some  one  has  truly  said,  a  catlike  quality  which  keeps 
them  attached  to  the  same  house,  whoever  may  dwell 
in  it.  As  to  the  poor  Duke  of  Enghien,  after  a  few 
weeks  no  one  ever  mentioned  him;  he  was  buried  in 
the  same  oblivion  as  the  victims  of  the  Terror.  The 
Parisians  hate  gloomy  memories.  Moreover,  the 
bloody  deed  at  Vincennes  did  not  prevent  the  Pope 
from  coming,  before  the  end  of  the  year,  to  crown 
the  new  Emperor.  Was  not  this  ceremony  to  be  one 
of  the  greatest  religious  formalities  that  had  ever 
taken  place  in  the  history  of  the  Catholic  Church'.' 
Could  one  Ijc  more  rigid  than  the  Vicar  of  Christ''' 

It   is  easy  to  imagine  how  this  vision  of  a  future 


340  THE    WIFE   OF  THE  FIE  ST  CONSUL. 

court  excited  longings,  jealousy,  ambition,  flattery, 
and  intrigue.  Every  one  hastened  to  the  hunt  for 
place  and  money.  The  Republican  familiarity,  the 
pretended  austerity  of  the  modern  Spartans,  had 
wholly  disappeared.  It  was  curious  to  observe  how 
promptly  the  newly  rich  people  turned  themselves 
into  aristocrats ;  it  was  they  Avho  were  the  hardest  to 
please  in  luxury,  in  their  fare,  in  their  liveries.  They 
were  the  more  eager  to  shine,  that  their  shining  was 
a  thing  of  new  growth.  They  who  ought  to  have 
been  astonished  at  this  good  fortune,  instead  of  trying 
to  astonish  others,  only  thought  of  dazzling  others, 
and  were  simple  enough  to  think  that  the  whole  world 
admired  their  splendor.  The  men  were  vain  of  their 
laced  coats,  and  the  women  rejoiced  in  ordering  their 
ball-dresses,  their  trains,  and  their  jewels. 

Amid  all  this  monarchial  excitement,  which  was  the 
fashion  and  sole  interest  of  the  day,  there  was  one 
person  noticed,  who  was  conspicuous  for  his  opposi- 
tion ;  for,  having  a  few  months  earlier  been  interested 
solely  in  dynastic  plans,  he  had  suddenly  become 
Republican  again,  contrary  to  his  interests.  This  man 
had  been  the  leading  supporter  of  the  coup  oVitat  of 
Brumaire,  and  was  the  own  brother  of  the  future  Em- 
peror, —  Lucien  Bonaparte.  To  get  to  the  bottom  of 
this  new  transformation,  we  must  again  ask :  Where 
is  the  woman  ?  The  woman  was  a  very  pretty,  very 
attractive  widow,  twenty-six  years  old,  Alexandrine 
de  Bleschamps,  whose  husband,  M.  Jouberthon,  after 
having  been  a  stock-broker  in  Paris,  had  dusd  in  Saint 


LAST   DAYS    OF   THE   Coy  SL'LATE.  341 

Domingo,  whither  lie  had  followed  the  French  expe- 
dition. Lucien  had  fallen  in  love  with  this  woman, 
and,  in  spite  of  the  formal  commands  of  the  First 
Consul,  had  married  her.  May  24,  1803,  a  son  had 
been  born  to  them,  who  later  was  to  marry  the  Prin- 
cess Zena'ide  Julie,  daughter  of  King  Joseph.  Napo- 
leon looked  upon  Lucien's  marriage  as  most  inappro- 
priate and  inadmissible,  and  he  was  very  anxious  to 
annul  it.  What  he  wanted  was  to  marry  Lucien  to 
Queen  Marie  Louise,  the  third  daughter  of  Charles 
IV.,  King  of  Spain,  and  the  widow  of  the  King  of 
Etruria,  Louis  I.,  the  first  king  whom  he  had  set  on  a 
throne.  Lucien  was  inflexible,  and  obstinately  re- 
fused his  brother's  most  brilliant  offers;  he  preferred 
a  woman's  love  to  a  crown. 

According  to  Count  Miot  de  Melito,  Joseph  Bona- 
parte was  then  entrusted  with  the  following  commis- 
sion, lie  was  to  try  to  persuade  Lucien  to  write  to 
the  First  Consul  a  letter  promising  not  to  allow  his 
wife  to  bear  his  name,  not  to  present  her  to  his  family, 
and  to  wait  until  time  and  circumstances  should  per- 
mit with  regard  to  this  marriage  a  legal  publicity, 
which,  moreover,  was  to  depend  on  his  brother's  con- 
sent. For  his  part  he  woidd  consent  to  see  Lucien 
again  as  it"  nothing  had  happened  and  would  let  him 
live  with  this  woman.     The  negotiation  fell  through. 

Napoleon  was  anxious  to  make  one  last  effort,  and 
he  had  an  interview  with  his  brother  which  he 
thought  would  be  decisive.  This  took  place  at  Saint 
Cloud,  late  one  evening.     About   midnight   the   First 


342  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

Consul  came  into  the  drawing-room,  and  said,  "  It's 
all  over !  I  have  just  quarrelled  with  Lucien,  and 
ordered  him  out  of  my  sight."  When  Josephine 
tried  to  interfere  in  behalf  of  her  brother-in-law,  from 
whom  she  had  suffered  a  great  deal,  he  said,  "  You 
are  very  kind  to  plead  for  him,"  and  he  kissed  her 
tenderly.  Then  he  was  heard  to  say,  "  It's  hard  to 
find  in  one's  own  family  opposition  to  such  great 
interests.  I  shall  have  to  isolate  myself  from  every 
one  and  to  depend  on  myself  alone.  Well,  I  shall 
suffice  for  myself,  and  Josephine  will  console  me  for 
everything." 

What  added  to  Napoleon's  distress  was  this,  that 
Madame  Letitia  Bonaparte,  his  mother,  sided  with 
Lucien,  and  went  with  him  to  Italy,  where  he  with- 
drew in  the  srjring  of  1804  to  escape  the  importuni- 
ties and  reproaches  of  his  all-powerful  brother.  As 
it  was,  Napoleon  recommended  Madame  Letitia  and 
Lucien  to  the  friendly  offices  of  Pius  VII.,  saying 
that  his  brother  had  gone  to  Rome  out  of  love  for 
the  arts,  and  his  mother  on  account  of  her  health. 

Joseph  Bonaparte,  although  he  did  not  break  with 
Napoleon  as  Lucien  had  done,  showed  that  he  was 
not  contented.  "  He  was  dissatisfied,"  Thiers  has 
said,  "  and  no  one  would  guess  the  reason  if  history 
were  not  to  take  pains  to  record  it.  He  was  sore 
because  the  First  Consul  Avas  anxious  to  appoint 
him  President  of  the  Senate,  and  he  had  refused 
that  high  position  with  an  air  of  offended  dignity 
when  M.  Cambace'res  had  offered  it  to  him  at  the 


LAST   DAYS   OF  THE   CONSULATE. 


343 


suggestion  of  the  First  Consul.  Bonaparte,  who  de- 
tested idleness,  had  sent  him  word  in  that  case  to 
seek  for  greatness  where  he  himself  had  found  it; 
that  is  to  say,  with  the  army.  Joseph,  appointed 
colonel  of  the  4th  of  the  Line,  left  for  Boulogne 
at  the  moment  when  the  great  question  of  the  re-es- 
tablishment of  the  monarchy  came  up  for  discussion." 
As  for  Jerome  Bonaparte,  the  youngest  of  Napo- 
leon's brothel's,  he  was  in  rebellion  against  his  brother, 
like  Lueien,  and  for  a  similar  reason.  In  1803,  after 
the  renewal  of  the  war,  after  the  treaty  of  Amiens, 
Jerome,  at  that  time  a  naval  officer,  had  been  chased 
by  English  ships,  and  had  landed  in  the  United 
States.  At  Baltimore  he  had  fallen  in  love  with  the 
daughter  of  one  of  the  richest  and  most  respectable 
citizens  of  that  place,  Miss  Elizabeth  Paterson.  He 
had  communicated  to  M.  I'iehou,  Consul-General  of 
France  at  Washington,  his  intention  to  marry  this 
young  woman,  who  was  very  charming,  and  the  mar- 
riage had  taken  place.  Jerome,  who  was  born 
November  15,  17<S4,  was  not  then  quite  twenty  years 
old,  and  the  law  of  September  20,  1702,  declared  null 
and  void  every  marriage  contracted  by  a  person  less 
than  twenty  years  old,  without  the  consent  of  both 
parents.  It  was  only  February  22,  1<S0"),  that,  by 
command  of  the  Emperor,  Madame  Letitia  Bonaparte 
placed  in  the  hands  of  M.  Haguideau,  notary,  a  pro- 
test against  her  son's  marriage.  In  1*04,  Jerome. 
whose  resistance  to  his  brother's  commands  was  des- 
tined to  be  of  but  brief  duration,  had  sworn   that    he 


344  THE    WIFE   OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

would  not  for  an  empire  repudiate  a  woman  whom 
he  esteemed  as  well  as  loved.  Napoleon,  who  was 
dreaming  of  crowns  for  his  brothers,  Avas  annoyed 
at  this  opposition,  and  excluded  Jerome,  as  well  as 
Lucien,  from  the  right  of  succession  to  the  Empire. 

Thus  the  situation  of  the  Bonaparte  family  did  not 
favor  the  establishment  of  the  principle  of  hereditary 
succession.  Napoleon  was  married  to  a  woman  who 
could  have  no  children.  His  eldest  brother,  Joseph, 
had  no  sons ;  and  his  other  brothers,  Lucien  and  Je- 
rome, had  just  contracted  marriages  which  were,  in 
his  eyes,  misalliances  which  could  not  be  pardoned. 

There  was  then  left  only  his  brother  Louis  to  per- 
petuate the  imperial  race.  By  his  marriage  with 
Hortense  de  Beauharnais  he  had  one  son,  Napoleon 
Charles,  born  in  Paris,  October  10,  1802,  who  was 
destined  to  die  at  the  Hague,  May  5,  1807.  Napo- 
leon was  very  fond  of  this  child,  who  scandalmongers 
pretended  was  his  own,  and  he  desired  to  make  him 
the  heir  to  the  Empire,  excluding  Joseph  and  Louis, 
but  Louis  offered  an  insurmountable  opposition  to 
this  plan.  "  Why,"  he  asked  his  brother,  "  why 
must  I  resign  to  my  son  a  part  of  your  succession? 
Why  do  I  deserve  to  be  disinherited?  What  will  be 
my  condition,  when  this  child,  having  become  yours, 
shall  find  himself  in  a  position  superior  to  mine,  inde- 
pendent of  me,  holding  the  place  next  to  you,  and 
eying  me  with  uneasiness,  or  possibly  even  with 
contempt?  No,  I  shall  never  consent  to  it;  and 
rather  than  consent  to  bow  my  head  before  my  son,  I 


LAST   DAYS   OF  THE  CONSULATE.  345 

shall  leave  France  and  take  Napoleon  with  me,  and 
Ave  shall  see  if,  in  the  face  of  the  world,  you  will  dare 
to  take  a  child  from  his  father!" 

Tin-  Monarchy  was  not  yet  restored;  the  crown, 
with  its  succession  a  matter  of  premature  dispute, 
was  not  yet  placed  on  the  First  Consul's  head; 
and  already  we  see  in  the  embryonic  court  the 
same  passions,  jealousies,  and  dissension  that  we  find 
in  tiie  court  of  an  old  kingdom,  or  of  an  old  estab- 
lished empire.  But  Napoleon,  whose  mighty  figure 
eclipsed  and  dominated  everything,  soon  caused  all 
the  cupidity  and  rivalries  of  his  courtiers  to  be  for- 
gotten. Joseph,  Lucien,  Louis,  and  Jerome,  who  all 
were  dependent  on  their  brother's  favor,  were  soon 
lost  in  the  background.  Lucien,  in  his  voluntary 
exile  in  Rome,  indulged  in  a  tew  lamentations,  but 
his  voice  found  no  echo.  He  wrote:  "Why  has  not 
Bonaparte,  that  great  general,  remained  steadfast  to 
philosophic  and  humanitarian  ideas?  I  can  posi- 
tively alVirm  that  they  were  the  first  belief  of  his 
youth  and  of  a  soul  liberal  by  nature.  ...  A  horde 
of  improvised  flatterers  preferred  the  childish  and 
servile  dignity  of  an  absolute  ruler  to  the  wise  and 
austere  representation  of  a  popular  chief  magistrate. 
Mv  admiration  for  Washington's  character  does  not 
prevent  mv  thinking  that  he  would  have  found  it 
difficult  to  withstand  the  current  which  my  brother 
lias  not  wished,  or  has  not  been  able,  to  resist.  If  all 
the  fellow-soldiers  of  the  American  hero,  and  the  offi- 
cials who  had  an  etjual  share  in  founding  the   Amen 


346  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

can  Republic,  had  agreed  to  substitute  a  crown  for 
the  Presidential  toga,  what  would  the  modern  Cin- 
cinnatus  have  done?"  And  again  he  wrote  as  fol- 
lows :  "  Yes,  Napoleon,  you  were  without  doubt 
guilty  of  absorbing  our  public  liberties  in  the  splen- 
dor of  your  military  glory,  but  it  must  in  fairness  be 
acknowledged  that  they  were  already  destroyed  by 
those  who  should  have  been  their  guardians  and 
defenders  ;  and  never,  it  must  be  said,  was  any  great 
political  body  so  openly  abject  as  was  the  majority  of 
the  Senate,  which  could  not  hear  without  a  blush, 
and  without  applying  it  to  itself,  that  line  of  Racine 
in  which  he  says  that  the  ready  servility  of  the 
Roman  Senate  wearied  Tiberius." 

The  great  bodies  of  the  State  began  to  rival  one 
another  in  monarchical  enthusiasm.  A  tribune  on 
the  28th  of  April  proposed  an  hereditary  empire.  On 
the  3d  of  May  the  whole  Tribunate,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Carnot,  adopted  the  proposal.  All  the  mem- 
bers of  the  legislative  body  who  happened  to  be  in 
Paris  agreed  to  it  most  eagerly.  The  next  day  the 
Senate  tried  to  disprove  the  statement  that  the  Tribu- 
nate had  taken  the  first  steps,  and  boasted  that  they 
had  themselves  made  the  beginning  six  weeks  earlier. 
As  to  the  Council  of  State,  it  had  accepted  it  by 
twenty  votes  out  of  twenty-seven.  At  its  meeting  on 
May  18,  the  Senate  adopted  a  Senatus-consultum  as 
follows  :  "  The  following  proposition  will  be  presented 
to  the  French  people  :  '  The  French  people  desires  the 
hereditary  succession  of  the  Imperial  dignity  in  the 


LAST   DAYS   OF  THE   CONSULATE.  347 


direct,  natural,  legitimate,  and  adoptive  line  of  Napo- 
leon Bonaparte,  and  in  the  direct,  natural,  legitimate 
line  of  Joseph  Bonaparte  and  Louis  Bonaparte.'"  As 
soon  as  the  vote  was  taken,  every  senator  rushed  to 
his  carriage  to  drive  to  Saint  Cloud,  hastening  thither 
to  see  the  new  sovereign  and  to  he  seen  of  him,  with 
their  faces  full  of  devotion,  joy,  and  admiration.  Ten 
years  later  these  men  were  to  assume  a  very  different 
attitude  when  they  had  learned  the  difference  between 
the  setting  and  the  rising  sun,  as  well  as  the  fact  that 
in  France  more  than  anywhere  else  a  sovereign's  first 
duty  is  to  he  fortunate.  Now,  however,  everything 
was  radiant  with  joy;  it  was  in  the  spring,  the  weather 
was  faultless,  and  Napoleon  was  surer  than  ever  that 
he  controlled  fate.  The  more  it  had  given,  the  more 
he  wished  to  ask,  and  his  demands  were  to  know  no 
bounds,  for  he  regarded  it  as  his  servant  who  could 
refuse  him  nothing.  At  the  moment  when  the  Senate 
came  to  salute  him  with  his  new  title  of  Emperor,  he 
was  standing  in  uniform  in  the  magnificent  Gallerv 
of  Apollo  decorated  with  mythological  frescos  by 
Mignard,  and  brilliant  with  all  the  pomp  of  the  great 
century.  Josephine,  joyful  and  uneasy  at  the  same 
time,  was  l>v  her  husband's  side,  modestly  sharing  his 
triumph. 

( 'ambaceres,  as  the  spokesman  of  the  Senate,  uttered 
a  formal  speech,  which  began  thus:  "Sire,  the  affec- 
tion and  gratitude  of  the  French  people  have  for  four 
veal's  confided  to  vour  Majesty  the  reins  of  govern- 
ment, and  the  different  bodies  of  the   State  entrusted 


348  THE   WIFE  OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

to  you  the  choice  of  a  successor.  The  imposing  title 
which  is  given  to  you  to-day  is  nothing  more  than 
a  tribute  which  the  nation  pays  to  its  own  dignity 
and  to  the  need  it  feels  of  offering  to  you  every  day 
the  testimony  of  a  respect  and  devotion  which  every 
day  sees  increasing."  And  he  thus  concluded  his 
speech :  "  Happy  the  nation  which  after  so  many 
troubles  finds  a  man  capable  of  pacifying  the  storm 
of  passions,  of  conciliating  every  interest,  of  harmo- 
nizing all  the  voices !  If  it  is  one  of  the  principles 
of  our  Constitution  that  the  part  of  the  decree  which 
establishes  an  hereditary  government  should  be  sub- 
mitted to  the  people,  the  Senate  has  thought  that  it 
should  request  your  Imperial  Majesty  to  consent  that 
the  necessary  measures  should  be  taken  at  once ;  and 
for  the  glory  as  well  as  for  the  happiness  of  the 
French  Republic,  it  proclaims  at  this  very  moment, 
Napoleon  Emperor  of  the  French."  At  once  enthu- 
siastic applause  broke  out  in  the  Gallery  of  Apollo, 
as  well  as  in  other  parts  of  the  palace,  even  in  the 
courtyards  and  gardens. 

The  multitude,  in  its  credulity  and  optimism,  im- 
agined that  the  Empire  was  a  talisman,  a  panacea, 
curing  all  woes  and  bringing  every  benefit.  This 
cry  of  "  Long  live  the  Emperor ! "  which  was  to  be 
heard  on  so  many  battle-fields,  now  filled  the  air  for 
the  first  time.  Napoleon,  who  had  attained  his  object, 
hides  his  pride  and  exultation  beneath  an  impassible 
calmness.  One  would  say  that  he  was  born  to  the 
throne,  so  readilv  does  he  adapt  himself  to  the  part 


LAST    h.lY-    OF   TIIK   COSSfLATE.  340 


of  a  monarch,  such  olx'dience,  resect,  and  devotion 
does  he  tin*  1  . 1 1  >  > u i  him.     As  skkii  as  silence  prevailed 

spoke  thus  in  reply  to  Cainlxiccrcs :  "Everything 
which  ran  i-ontrihute  to  niv  country's  happiness  is 
intimately  » : i : i . -  - t . - •  1  with  my  happiness.  I  accept 
the  title  which  you  consider  important  to  the  nation's 
glory:  I  submit  to  asking  the  sanction  of  the  people 
to  the  law  of  hereditary  succession;  I  hope  that 
France  will  never  repent  the  honors  it  l)estows  on 
my  family.  In  any  event,  mv  spirit  would  no  longer 
1h-  with  my  posterity  whenever  it  should  cease  to 
deserve  the  love  and  confidence  of  the  grand  nation." 
Then  it  was  the  turn  of  the  new  Empress  to  receive 
the  homage  of  the  Senate.  Camkueres  addressed 
her  in  these  terms:  ".Madame,  the  Senate  has  still 
an  agreeable  duty  to  perform,  that  of  offering  to  your 
Imperial  Majesty  the  homage  of  its  respect  and  the 
expression  of  the  gratitude  of  the  French  people. 
Ves.  Madame,  Fiance  makes  known  the  good  you 
are  never  tired  of  doing.      It   says  that,  always  acees- 

■  ■   to   tin-    unfortunate,   you    never    exercise    your 

intlueiicc  over  the  head  of  tlie  State,  save   to  console 

,-.    ami    that    to    the    pleasure   of   obliging 

lli.  in  \oii;    Maje-uv  adds   that    amiable   delicacy  which 

makes    platitude    sweeter  and   the   Uuielit    more    pre- 

I!  is  liappv  disposition    is   a   sure   token   that 

less  .J,  isi-phin,-  will  Ih-  the  signal 

m  ami  h<  ipe,  and.  as  i  ies  <  >i    Xapo- 

to    his    SUCI   CssOlN 

ii'ii-h   tlii'in  i  nati< »ns.   so  the 


350  THE   WIFE  OF   THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

undying  memory  of  your  kindness  will  teach  their 
august  companions  that  the  art  of  drying  tears  is  the 
surest  way  of  ruling  over  men's  hearts.  The  Senate 
congratulates  itself  on  being  the  first  to  greet  your 
Imperial  Majesty,  and  he  who  has  the  honor  to  be  its 
spokesman  presumes  to  hope  that  you  will  deign  to 
count  him  in  the  number  of  your  most  faithful 
servants." 

Josephine,  the  modest  and  gracious  Creole,  was  then 
exalted  to  the  rank  of  a  sovereign,  and  the  prophecy 
of  the  black  fortune-teller  was  verified.  France  was 
about  to  sanction  by  an  almost  unanimous  vote  —  five 
and  a  half  millions  to  two  thousand  —  the  Napoleonic 
dynasty.  The  few  objectors  who  might  have  wished 
to  put  themselves  in  the  way  of  this  triumphal  chariot, 
stepped  aside.  Amid  the  chorus  of  noisy  applause 
which  burst  out  everywhere,  no  discordant  note  was 
heard.  In  all  quarters  there  was  nothing  but  flattery, 
congratulations,  the  flourish  of  trumpets,  in  towns, 
in  the  country,  under  gilded  ceilings,  under  the  roofs 
of  huts,  in  public  places,  in  the  camps ;  and  yet, 
though  she  had  reached  this  height,  Josephine  was 
rather  anxious  than  happy.  She  did  not  care  to  rise 
to  such  a  height,  and  the  sight  of  the  abyss  from  this 
lofty  elevation  made  her  giddy.  She  felt  that  as  her 
fortune  grew  her  happiness  diminished,  and  that  a 
crown  would  lie  heavy  on  her  brow.  It  was  enough 
for  her  to  be  a  loving  woman.  She  had  no  need  to 
be  an  Imperial  Highness.  The  sceptre  was  an  idle 
toy ;  a  fan  sufficed  her. 


LAST   DAYS    OF   THE  COSSlLATK.  &>1 


While  Napoleon's  sisters  were  rejoicing  at  the 
thought  that  they  were  to  he  princesses,  and  their 
brother  an  Emperor,  Josephine,  tormented  by  this 
lofty  rank,  could  not  accustom  herself  to  the  idea 
that  she  was  succeeding  the  unfortunate  Marie 
Antoinette  on  the  throne  of  France,  and  her  unex- 
pected sovereignty  seemed  to  her  an  anomaly,  almost 
a  usurpation.  In  her  eyes  the  throne  was  surrounded 
with  snares;  and  her  instinct  was  right.  Something 
said  to  her:  Nothing  of  all  this  will  last,  nothing 
except  sorrow. 

Strange  lesson  for  human  pride,  clear  proof  of  the 
nothingness  of  glory;  ignorance  was  clearer-sighted 
than  genius;  the  eyes  of  the  dove  saw  further  than 
the  eyes  of  the  eagle  !  Napoleon  despised  men  who 
took,  counsel  of  women,  and  yet  he  would  have  done 
well,  and  would  probably  have  escaped  his  ruin,  had 
he  listened  to  Josephine.  What  did  she  advise  him? 
Moderation,  clemency,  fidelity  to  the  Republic  to 
which  he  owed  his  unexampled  good  fortune.  If  she 
had  had  more  influence  over  him,  he  would  not  have 
put  to  death  the  Duke  of  Fnghien,  an  incident  which, 
though  forgotten  in  France,  was  to  1h\  as  Thiers  has 
pointed  out,  the  main  cause  of  a  third  general  war 
and  the  inspiration  of  the  successive  coalitions  which 
finally  crushed  the  hero  of  so  many  battles.  He 
would  not  have  renounced  the  glorious  title  of  First 
Consul  for  another,  more  majestic,  but  less  lasting; 
he  would  not  have  made  his  brothers  kings  of  a  dav  : 
he  would  have  remained  the  lirst   citizen  of  a  great 


352  THE    WIFE   OF  THE  FIRST  CONSUL. 

Republic.  He  would'  have  controlled  liis  genius,  his 
ambition,  and  his  pride.  But  instead  of  letting  him- 
self be  controlled  by  his  wife's  gentler  charm,  the 
giant,  fascinated,  intoxicated  by  his  own  glory,  made 
of  his  existence  a  vast  romance  which  could  end  only 
in  a  catastrophe  as  great  as  his  triumph.  Such  was 
the  mockery  of  Fate !  The  humble  Creole  judged 
events  more  wisely  than  the  great  Emperor,  and  said 
to  herself,  that  if  the  wife  of  the  First  Consul  had 
been  less  happy  than  the  wife  of  the  Citizen  Bona- 
parte, the  Empress  of  the  French,  the  Queen  of  Italy, 
would  be  more  wretched  than  the  wife  of  the  First 
Consul. 


T  N  D  E  X. 


A  brands,  Duchess  of,  her  "  History    Bonaparte,    Louis.   \M;    marriage 

of  Paris  Drawing-rooms,  "quoted,  I      of,  142;  his  suspicious  character, 

45,  50:  her  writings,  lt>5.  117  et  s<  <i. 

Acting  at  Malmaisoii,  WJ  ft  mij.         Bonaparte,  Madame  Ixuiis,  her  uu- 
"  Almanack  of  the  Nineteenth  Cen-  j      congenial  marriage,  111 ;  ;it  Mal- 

tury,"  L"J.  maison,    140;    oilious   suspicious 

Auue,  Sergeant,  Napoleon's   letter        of,   117;    birth  of  her   son,   14*; 

to,  4'.».  her  sufferings  and  faults,  151. 

Bonaparte,    Lucien,    halls    at    his 
Ballad  suug  in  the  streets  concern-       palace,    5,'i;    his    sj>eecli    at    the 

iug  the  infernal  machine,  i'5.  Bastille    celebration,  *  IT  :    in  the 

Bastille,  festival  of  the  taking  of,  00.       temple  of  Mars,  ".!;  his  marriage, 
Beauharuais,  Mile,  de,  her  tomb  at        1141;   and  alienation   from  Napo- 

Keuil,   '_' ;    receives    Napoleon    at  |      leoii,  'Ml ;  succession  of  liis  son, 

Malmaison  after  Waterloo,  5;  re-        .544. 

fused  entrance  ;.t  M-ilinaisoii,  lo;     Bonaparte,    Pauline,    her    beauty, 

her aetingat  Malmaison,  1  lit,  121 :        2*5 ;    her    marriage    to   (Jeueral 

her  early  life,  12'.';  at  ,-cliool,  i:a>;        I.eclerc,   277;    accompanies   him 


Napoleon's  affection  for  her,  1-1  ; 
her  poetic  liiilure,  ]■'■'-.  her  prefer- 
ence  f<>r  1  'time,  I  '.1 ;  marriage 
of,  1 12.  Sec  also  Madame  I»uis 
Bonaparte. 
Belgium.    Napoleon's    journey    to, 


to  Saint  Domingo.  27'.';  her  de- 
votion to  him,  27'J ;  her  grief  for 
his  death.  2*1  :  marries  Prince 
Borghese,  2.S2. 

Borghese,  Princess.  See  Pauline 
Bonapart;-. 

Bourrienne,  as  an  actor,  120;  de- 
nounces the  calumnies  respecting 
Napoleon  and  Hortcnse,  1  V.K 


Bciie/ech,  State-Councillor,  42. 
I.ernadottc,    <  leneral,   his    attitude 

to  Napol.-on,  _".»;. 
Bonaparte,  Madame  (mere),  favors  '  Cadoudal,  (i  corgi  -s,  th i  spiral  or, 

I. ucien's   marriage,  l>42:  jirotests  ,s."i ;    caj>turc    of,    ■  ■"•:     his    hirtli 

against   .Icrnme's,  •  >!.;.  and  career,   ■■,ll;    i:iter\   ■  •«    with 

Bonapart'  ,  Caroline,  her  marriage,  Najtoleoii,  :->u;  organizes  a  con- 

j  ;     '    .si    .,    her  appearance,    21,  spiracy,    '■'*»'<;    returns   to    Paris, 

11"..  ""7. 

i'.nuaparti',  .lerome,  his  marriage  t<>  Cambaceres,   his    sp, ech    in    Na]*>- 

'■I  ~s  Patersoii,  .il.;.  !■ -on  conferring  the  Imperial  lit li'. 

.loseph,    dissatisfaction  IHs. 

i,l,  o!2.  pan,  Madame,  125;  In  r  hoaid 


354 


INDEX, 


ing-school  at  Saint  Germain,  130; 
supports  Louis  Bonaparte's  mar- 
riage to  Hortense,  135;  letter  of, 
to  Hortense  on  her  marriage, 
141. 

Ceracchi  and  Arena,  the  conspira- 
tors, 86. 

Chaptal,  M.,  his  fete  in  honor  of 
the  King  of  Etruria,  108. 

Chariot,  Major,  abducts  the  Duke 
of  Enghien,  316. 

Chateaubriand,  return  of,  to  Paris, 
60;  on  the  charms  of  society  in 
Consular  Paris,  101;  his  descrip- 
tion of  Talma,  103;  his  "Genius 
of  Christianity,"  175. 

Concordat,  establishment  of,  170; 
ceremonies  at  Notre  Dame,  170  ; 
ladies  present  at,  171. 

Conspiracies  against  Napoleon,  85 
et  seq.,  300  et  seq. 

Dalmas's  retort  to  Napoleon,  173. 

Dologrouki,  Princess,  letters  of, 
quoted,  44. 

Duroc,  133,  commissioned  as  Gen- 
eral of  division,  138. 

Emigres,  the,  and  Napoleon,  180. 
Empire,  the  word  used  in  the  days 

of  the  Republic,  68 ;  the  proposed, 

346 ;  consummated,  347. 
Enghien,  Duke  of,  311 ;   his  birth 

and   career,  313;    at  Ettenheim, 

313;  his  arrest  determined,  315; 

abducted  from   Ettenheim,   317 ; 

taken  to  Vincennes,  311,  320;  his 

trial,   323;    his    execution,  324; 

funeral  service  for  him  at    St. 

Petersburg,  320. 
England     fomenting    conspiracies 

against  Napoleon,  306. 
Etruria,  King  of,  visit  of,  in  Paris, 

104;  entertainments  in  honor  of, 

107  et  seq. 

Festival  of  General  Peace,  the,  111. 

Garat,  the  singer,  102;  Baroness  de 
Kriideuer's  devotion  to,  103. 


Genlis,  Madam   de,  return  of,  to 

Paris,  61. 
Grunstein,  General  de,  316. 

Hainguerlot,  M.,  56. 

Harville,  Madame  d',  46. 

Hohenlinden,  victory  of,  290. 

Hortense.  See  Mile,  de  Beauhar- 
nais. 

Hulot,  Madame,  incensed  with  Na- 
poleon, 291. 

Hugo,  Victor,  his  poem  on  Napo- 
leon, 217,  3,34. 

Infernal  machine,  the,  85  et  seq. ; 
street  ballad  concerning,  95. 

Josephine,  her  tomb  at  Reuil,  1 ; 
death  of,  at  Malmaison,  4  ;  her 
freedom  from  ambition,  32  ;  her 
receptions  at  the  Tuileries,  44 
et  seq.;  affection  of  Bonaparte 
for,  65  ;  her  life  at  Malmaison, 
78;  her  remarkable  social  tact, 
83 ;  her  first  premonitions  of  the 
divorce,  96;  her  fondness  for 
dress  and  pleasure,  104;  her  de- 
light in  rustic  scenes,  125  ;  her 
affection  for  Malmaison,  126 ; 
jealousy  of,  150 ;  at  ease  with  the 
emigres,  183;  her  forebodings, 
191;  begs  Napoleon  not  to  be  a 
king,  192 ;  her  popularity  in  1803, 
234;  her  charm,  236;  her  kind- 
ness, 237;  her  faults,  239;  Napo- 
leon's tribute  to  her  qualities, 
242 ;  accompanies  Napoleon  on 
the  journey  to  Belgium,  267 ;  her 
queenly  bearing,  271,  276;  her 
tact  and  affability,  292 ;  informs 
Madame  de  Remusat  of  the  fate 
of  the  Duke  of  Enghien,  319;  her 
distress  at  the  Duke  of  Enghien's 
execution ,327;  declared  Empress, 
349. 

Junot,  General,  153  et  seq. 

Junot,  Madame,  153;  anecdote  of 
Napoleon  and,  155  et  seq.  See 
Duchess  of  Abrantes. 


LXDEX. 


::.-,-, 


Krudener,  the  Baroness  de,  her 
influence  on  the  destiny  of  Na- 
poleon, 103. 

I.amartine  sings  the  denunciation 

of    Napoleon's    murder    of    the 

Duke  of  Enghien,  '.^'A. 
Lameth.  Madame  de,  4t>. 
I^auriston,  Madame  de,  4»;. 
la     Rochefoucauld,    Madame    de, 

15. 
l.a  Yalette,  Madame  de,  4t>. 
Leelerc,  Geueral,  his  marriage  to 

Pauline  Bonaparte,  277 ;  sails  for 

Saint  Domingo,  27'.i;    his   death, 

'.'•SO. 
I^emoinne,    M.    John,   criticism   of 

Napoleon,  257. 

Malmaison,  5  et  seq.;  sale  of  and 
subsequent  history,  11  <t  seq,; 
sj>orts  at,  *1  ;  the  unceremonious 
life  of  Bonaparte  at,  75  ,t  .<■'/.; 
description  of  the  house  and 
grounds  of,  7'''  <  t  s<  ;.;  Napoleon's 
favorite  resort.  KO;  enlarged  and 
beautified,  115:  destruction  of 
the  park,  1..". 

Marengo,  victory  of,  its  impor- 
tance to  Napoleon,  t>:;. 

Me'chin.  Madame,  55. 

Metternich,  Prince, at  Saint  Cloud. 
1H15,  i!i:i. 

Military  reviews  of  tlie  First  Con- 
sul, 47  et  *>q. 

Moniteur,  the,  on  the  opera  balls, 
57. 

Montesson,  Marchioness  of,  her 
entertainments,  10"';  ball  given 
by,  in  honor  of  llortense,  1 11. 

Moreau.  General,  the  cause  of  his 
hatred  of  Napoleon,  2.S.S ;  wins 
the  battle  of  Hohenlinden,  2'«i. 
his  hostility  to  Napoleon,  •*.*]; 
his  insolence  to  the  men  of  the 
old  regime,  2'.<s;  his  arrest,  ■_"". 
301. 

Moreau,  Madame,  her  jealousy  of 
Napoleon,  2*K;  her   marriage  to 


General  Moreau,  2IW;  her  accom- 
plishments, 2V1. 

Mum,  M.  de,  154. 

Murat,  his  marriage  to  Caroline 
Bonaparte,  23  1 1  .<■  y. ;  his  charac- 
ter, 25;  his  marriage  solemnized, 
14.;. 

Napoleon  at  Malmaison,  5;  his  pro- 
posal to  the  Provisional  Govern- 
ment,?; his  departure  from  Mal- 
maison, {»;  as  First  Consul,  22; 
his  aversion  to  Murat,  25  ;  installs 
himself  in  the  Tuileries,  31  <  t 
seq.;  entrance  in  state  into  the 
Tuileries,  :;:;  ,  I  seq.  ;  his  apart- 
ments, 41:  society  of  his  court, 
43  <t  seq.;  his  ascendancy,  47; 
his  tact  with  soldiers,  4* :  at 
Lucien  Bonaparte's  ball,  55;  at 
Paris  after  Marengo,  fi.1  et  seq.; 
his  affection  for  Josephine,  (J5; 
his  life  at  Malmaison,  SO ;  con- 
spiracies against,  85  :  the  infernal 
machine,  K'.i  <t  seq.;  his  sisters 
at  the  head  of  society,  10]  ;  his 
treatment  of  the  King  of  F.truria, 
106;  his  fondness  for  theatrical 
performances  at  Malmaison,  121  ; 
desires  a  more  magnificent  r.-si- 
detiee  than  Maliuaisoti.  127 ;  fa- 
vors Duroe's  marriage  to  Mor- 
tens .,  i:,i  ;  his  account  of  l.ouis 
and  the  calumnies  concerning 
llortense  and  himself,  150;  his 
religion,  loT.  his  policy  with  the 
c'migres,  Ivi  ,!  .-■■■;.:  his  double 
nature,  1M  ;  afraid  of  women, 
Is.;,  his  plan  for  controlling  the 
nobility,  1*5  ;  Ids  absolute  p.wer, 
ls7;  Consul  for  life.  Iss;  his 
fears  of  the  Bourbons,  Is;i;  as- 
sumes the  name  Napdeon,  l'.C. ; 
his  r-  -mains  brought  back  to 
Paris  by  the  ISmirbons,  217;  most 
truh  1  iniself  as  Fir^t  <  'oiisid, 
21s:  Saint-Amand's  estimate  of 
Jiis  enarai  :■  r.  21'.'  >  I  .<•  . .  ,  w  as  he 
;ious '.'  21'.'   ■  '    .'   ■;.  :    u.is    h<) 


356 


INDEX. 


kind?  222;  did  he  like  women? 
226;  was  he  a  man  of  intelli- 
gence? 228 ;  had  he  imagination  ? 
229 ;  a  great  man,  231 ;  his  daily 
habits,  240 ;  his  affection  for  Jo- 
sephine cooled,  241 ;  the  changes 
of  opinion  concerning,  253;  his 
angry  demonstration  to  Lord 
Whitworth,  2(115;  his  journey  to 
Belgium,  2(16  et  seq. ;  his  rude- 
ness to  Madame  Hulot,  291 ;  his 
dislike  to  Madame  Moreau,  292 ; 
unable  to  hide  his  antipathies, 
292;  his  horror  of  rivalry,  293; 
his  anxiety  for  Cadoudal's  ar- 
rest, 304;  his  interview  with 
him,  305;  anxiety  of,  at  the  time 
of  the  conspiracy,  309 ;  his  grow- 
ing irritation,  313 ;  determines  to 
abduct  the  Duke  of  Enghien,  315 ; 
signs  his  death  warrant,  322 ;  his 
demeanor  after  the  execution, 
325;  his  impassiveness,  329;  de- 
fends himself  and  admits  his 
fault,  331 ;  quarrels  with  Lucien, 
342;  the  title  of  Emperor  be- 
stowed upon  him,  347. 
Napoleon  III.  refused  entrance  at 
Malmaison,  10. 

Opera  balls  in  Paris,  56. 
Ordener,  Colonel,  31(5. 

Paris  at  the  beginning  of  the  Con- 
sulate, 52  et  seq. ;  dancing  in,  at 
the  beginning  of  the  Consulate, 
56 ;  in  1801,  98  et  seq. ;  the  new 
society  imitates  the  old  nobility, 
99. 

Permon,  Madame  de,  152  et  seq. 

Perregaux,  M.,  55. 

Pichegru,  General,  arrest  of.  303; 
reaches  Paris,  307  ;  his  interview 
with  Moreau,  308. 

Pontmartin,  Count  Armand  de,  his 
defence  of  Napoleon,  257. 

Quinct,  Kdgar,  his  description  of 
the  feeling  at  the  beginning  of 
the  Consulate,  52;  cpuoted,  167. 


Real,  M.,  arrives  too  late  to  save 
the  Duke  of  Enghien,  324. 

Re'camier,  M.,  56. 

Recamier,  Madame,  and  Lucien 
Bonaparte,  53 ;  enthusiasm  over 
her  beauty,  102. 

Regnault,  Madame,  55. 

Re'musat,  Charles  de,  his  eulogy  of 
Napoleon,  253. 

Re'musat,  Madame  de,  46;  quoted, 
147,  148 ;  her  description  of  Jose- 
phine's personal  charm,  236;  her 
birth  and  station,  244  et  seq. ; 
Napoleon  liked  to  talk  with  her, 
245;  her  attractions,  246;  her 
adventure  with  Napoleon,  248; 
destroys  her  diary,  251 ;  her 
Memoirs,  252;  her  death,  254; 
literary  value  of  her  Memoirs, 
255. 

Rohan,  Princess  de,  314;  follows 
the  Duke  of  Enghien  and  is  ar- 
rested, 318. 

Reuil,  funeral  adornments  of  Jose- 
phine and  Hortense  in  the  church 
of,  1. 

Saint  Cloud,  its  present  aspect,  197 ; 
review  of  its  history,  201 ;  de- 
struction of  in  1871,  205;  its 
magnificent  embellishments,  206 ; 
etiquette  and  household,  208;  the 
chapel  and  theatre,  209 ;  park  of, 
210;  Napoleon's  room  at,  211; 
Prussians'  occupation  of,  in  1815, 
213. 

Saint  Germain,  the  Faubourg,  the 
great  families  of,  178  et  seq. 

St.  Rejant's  infernal  machine,  88. 

Savary,  Colonel,  watching  for  con- 
spirators at  Biville,  313;  sent 
with  the  order  for  the  execution 
of  the  Duke  of  Engheiu,  322. 

Scguin,  M.,  55. 

Segur,  General  de,  receives  his  ap- 
pointment from  Napoleon,  212; 
his  account  of  Moreau's  rudeness, 
298. 

Talhouet,  Madame  de,  46. 


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